Identifying Emotions Which Have Long Lied Dormant
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: 1678: Amelie decides to spend time living with Oliver, rather than Myrnin. What if it turns out they both have feelings for one another, yet cannot identify them? Will they ever realise them, or will they just be 'friends' and such? Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_I said to FireFrenzy596 I would write an Amelie/Oliver story soon, so here we are! I decided to write this based upon Amelie and Oliver in the olden days, and how they __**may**__ have had something in the past!_

_Breaking my OWN rule here (I said that I would only have one ongoing Morganville Vampires story at a time, and this will be my third atm!) but who cares! I was bored! _

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_Amelie's POV – 1678_

I do not have the patience to deal with this anymore. I _cannot_, I _will not,_ live with these two IMBECILES any longer. They are the most idiotic, immature, selfish idiots I could ever meet… _why_ am I friends with two people who hate each other so much, they fight when they are in the same room for longer than about five minutes. Myrnin and Oliver are absolutely ridiculous – why on earth they just cannot get along together, I do not know, but they will _not_ stop arguing!

"Will you _please_ stop arguing?" I ask, my patience entirely eradicated in just having to deal with these two idiotic inbreeds. They can never get along, for more than a few seconds – every single thing they disagree on. Even if they would agree if it was with someone else, they decide to think that they need to disagree just because the other one said their opinion first! "You have nearly made my head explode; so please just be quiet and let me think!" I continue and they both look sheepish. I place my head in my hands delicately, resting my elbows on the desk I am sitting behind, and squeeze my eyes closed, unable to look at the men sat in front of me.

Myrnin is on the left, wearing his usual outfit of black trousers with a white shirt, braces and a jacket with tails. His top hat rests on his knee and as he jiggles it, the noise cuts through my ears. _Why_ does he have to be so annoying and do so much to annoy me? He may be my longest friend, but that doesn't give him the right to annoy me and such… the irritance I have for him just seems to grow and grow. It gets balanced out with his wit and just pleasure to be around. Normally, that is, not at the minute though!

Oliver is sat on my left (so therefore the right) and is wearing _his_ usual outfit… which is near identical to Myrnin's. in fact, I believe the only difference is that Oliver's shirt is pleated, whilst Myrnin's is plain. Oh, and the fact that Oliver never accompanies his outfit with a smile. However, he _does_ suit the entire sharpness caused by the colour of the clothing rather more so than Myrnin, who looks like he is playing dress up. Continually, I tell him that he suits emerald green more, but does he listen? However, Oliver… Oliver I don't _need_ to tell him how he should dress – it's rather worrying how good he is with fashion, if I am truly honest.

I open my eyes and lift my head from my hands, feeling as if I am strong enough to face this situation now that lies before me. I see Oliver and Myrnin staring in opposing directions, as not to come into contact with each other. The last few seconds have been unusually quiet; I presume that it is because I have just snapped at them both.

"Amelie?" Myrnin says as I stare into the distance, inbetween the two of them, for many a moment. I am calculating something, something that means we can stay hidden from the humans and not be killed… after all, that _is_ the name of the game, isn't it, to survive through these perilous times of witch hunts? The Salem Witch Trials was a terrifying thing to watch – there may be no such thing as witches, but the heightened belief in mythical creatures has caused us to be so much more careful than we would normally be. Well, I discount myself in that last point because I have always been careful, but others of our kind have needed to be more… _prudent_ in their killings of late.

"Yes?" I ask, slightly aggravated at being interrupted.

"What are you doing?" he asks me, appearing slightly bemused at the flurrying of my lips that are making no noise whatsoever.

"I am calculating how long we have been here… unless you _want_ to be caught and identified as a vampire, I can stop," I say, with a vicious undertone to my voice. After all, he is interrupting me!

"No, no, carry on," he says with a wide smile. I roll my eyes at him and move my vision over to Oliver. He looks studiously in the corner to my left but when I look away, through my peripheral vision I see him looking in my direction. I presume at his tender age (in comparison to me: one hundred years is nothing on almost seven hundred) he has forgotten that my eyesight is so much sharper than his, so I can see movements so infinitesimal, he wouldn't even recognise them. Ahh, to be so young and naïve – what I wouldn't give to be able to return to that.

"We have been settled here for nearly five years," I say, deciding that to round to the nearest year is much simpler than explaining the date down to the nearest day. "We need to be moving on shortly – after all, we do not want to be caught as I said," I continue, noting how both of them look shocked at the amount of time that has elapsed since we settled in this bustling market town. I feel a return to London ought to be on the cards: the animosity and lack of safety left over from the civil war and the rule of Oliver Cromwell MUST have finally waned away. At least, it must have waned to the point where houses are no longer burnt due to them being in the 'wrong section' of the town and being in either the royalist's side or the side of Oliver Cromwell.

"Where shall we go?" Myrnin muses aloud. "I always considered Glasgow," he continues, resting his hand under his chin. Oliver immediately diverts his attention from the wall behind me to face Myrnin and sneer, even though I could have sworn he mentioned about Glasgow the other week.

"No, no chance, fool," Oliver scoffs. "How about York – it is of a good size so that we can blend in, but is up north so gets less sun than the lower counties of the country?" he suggests. However, before Myrnin can snub that idea, I jump in. I think it is truly horrific that they will fight like this in front of me: do they not remember that I command respect and so much more from the rest of the vampires of the world (albeit not my father nor his minions) and will not stand for arguing occurring in my presence?

"We shall return to London," I say sharply, my voice able to cut through glass. Both of them turn to face me with a slight look of shock on their faces.

"B-but I thought you said that we couldn't return to the capital for many a year to come," Myrnin blusters.

"I said that nearly four decades ago, if you would care to pay attention," I say coolly, snapping my fingers at Oliver dismissively as he begins to make noise against Myrnin. "I have to admit I miss the hustle and bustle of the capital and as there have not been reports of violence ensuing for many a month, I believe that this is the optimum time to return," I say, making to stand. As I do so, I fan out the bottom of my dress so that the skirt is not crumpled from my sitting on it. The dress I am currently wearing is a very pale pink silk, with a tight bodice which flares slightly to reach the ground, angling out at my hips. It is one of my most flattering dresses, bought from many centuries of accumulated money, and I do concede the point that the square cut neckline procures much attention when I wear the dress. My long blonde hair billows over my shoulder, making me appear so much younger than when I wear it up: as a human, down was my preferred way to have my hair as this effect was so much more prominent then. After all, when my hair is down I do not look my four and twenty years I physically am. Myrnin is almost twenty seven, whilst Oliver is forty two physically: he had a hard life, resulting in his aged appearance – the hardship took it's toll on his appearance. Still, I would not mention this to him… I leave the insulting of his superficial appearance to Myrnin who handles this most aptly.

"Amelie, are you sure?" he idiotically presses. I flash over to stand over him, barely being taller than him even though I am stood and he is simply sitting. He has always been so much taller than me, and it is so awkward when we have to pretend to be married – I can never see his face, so simply have to assume he isn't pulling silly faces. We have been like this for the past five hundred years; since I turned Oliver almost one hundred years ago now, he has been the spinster living on his own… it helped him lure young girls to his bed before draining their blood. How eloquent and gentlemanly this trait is! However, he has had too much freedom – in the past, he has come close to unveiling all three of us, given we work in such proximity with one another. Perhaps it is time for a change: I am sure that Myrnin would like the chance to not have to attend all of these brothels he appears to be so fond of… it makes my skin crawl as I think about it- how vulgar!

"Of _course_ I'm sure!" I say forcefully, making him look up in alarm as to how I am suddenly stood next to him.

"Then when shall I pack, milady?" he asks me smoothly, smiling his crinkle eyed grin. I roll my eyes and turn to face Oliver, flicking my long hair carefully over my shoulder.

"I have grown bored of living with you, Myrnin, for the past half a millennia," I say to Myrnin whilst facing Oliver. The latter turns to face me and looks me directly in the eye, something which has always irritated me. Most (with the exception of Myrnin, my ally and near equal) vampires do not look me in the eye, for fear of being deemed rude or offensive to my power and rule. However, Oliver is an exception for some reason. He _always_ looks me in the eyes, _always_. I will not pretend that it doesn't unnerve me slightly, for it does. It also brings something inside of me that I cannot explain – a feeling which confuses me slightly. A feeling that renders me slightly more dumbstruck around him. I have no idea what on earth it could be – I have never felt it before. Still, I have enough wit about me to keep him in his place to prevent him trying to lead a mutiny against me. Even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to defeat me. Still, he can dream can he not?

"Then where shall you live?" Myrnin's voice interrupts my staring at Oliver. I look away but I feel Oliver's eyes linger on me for a fraction of a second longer before looking away.

"I shall live with Oliver," I say slowly.

"WHAT?" Myrnin squeals. I knew he would take it like this!

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_Sorry it is so short – I just wanted to get an inkling as to whether or not you liked the story and such._

_Also, please vote on my poll on my profile page!_

_Please review – I'll update soon! *prods you* PLEASE press the button & review, it's not hard! _

_Vicky xx_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! They've been really great… more please!_

_I forgot to say this before: I don't own Morganville Vampires!_

_Thank you again to FireFrenzy596 for getting me to begin this story!_

_Chapter 2:_

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_**Recap of end of last chapter:**_

"**Then where shall you live?" Myrnin's voice interrupts my staring at Oliver. I look away but I feel Oliver's eyes linger on me for a fraction of a second longer before looking away.**

"**I shall live with Oliver," I say slowly. **

"**WHAT?" Myrnin squeals. I knew he would take it like this! **

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_Amelie's POV:_

I _knew_ Myrnin wouldn't be able to accept the fact that I am abandoning him to go and live with his enemy (although I haven't a clue why he hates him so) even though he doesn't really have a say in the matter. I mean, we are _friends_ not lovers – he doesn't have a say in what I do. The meaning of the word 'friend' is, in my opinion, someone who helps and is close to you – you get on well – but although they give their opinion, they don't get hurt or overreact to your actions. It appears Myrnin is breaking all of these conditions here already!

"Myrnin, it is somewhere I will be living," I say quietly, turning back to face him. He looks rather shocked and hurt, hurt that I don't want to be living with him. "I have lived with you for over five hundred years, Myrnin; I believe that I deserve a short break. Especially given what I have had to put up with during that time," I continue and he grimaces slightly before looking bemused.

"_What _have you had to put up with for all that time?" he asks and I almost snort, before realising how unladylike such an action is.

"All those women you brought home whilst I was in the house," I begin and he already looks sheepish, as he ought to. My hearing has never been the same – I tried to block it out so much, yet it didn't work… those hours where the most uncomfortable ones I can ever remember. "The trouble you constantly got into with the local authorities, going against the beliefs of the church even though I _expressly_ told you not to. The continual struggle I faced trying to get you to dress appropriately, to put away your absolute _rubbish_, to stop you killing irregularly and conspicuously. I could go on – would you like me to?" I ask, fury beginning to seep into my tone as I remember the reams of things Myrnin has done to me to infuriate me.

Myrnin looks sheepish but doesn't press the point – instead, Oliver laughs long and hard at him.

"Why are you such an idiot, Myrnin?" he asks, which sort of reduces the work I have done in the last few minutes to diffuse the situation between them to cinders.

"At least I'm not a bamboozling idiotic retard like yourself who needs to have the approval of _everyone_ you could possibly think of before acting, just so that you can then blame them if it goes wrong," Myrnin retorts with a good hint of sourness to his tone. Ahh, he has learnt from me well… before, he was all happiness and light but I managed to teach him how to be bitter, cold and emotionless. Unfortunately, he seems to forget the last one when Oliver is around and always gets entirely heated in the midst of pointless arguments between the two of them.

"_Anyway_," I say, as I did earlier, making sure that Oliver doesn't retaliate. He has stood up, so I stand sideways as to place a restraining hand on both of their chests (Myrnin also stood up and began to move towards Oliver) so that they don't begin to fight _again_. They are always fighting – I refuse to let them fight in my home, so they are thrown out into the nearest field so that they can fight. I _really_ don't care about them fighting, yet I would prefer them to not fight… it isn't nice. They are both my friends and I believe that, for me, they ought to get along or not talk. They should both be mature enough to refrain from fighting and opposing one another at every point, yet this appears to be impossible for them. They ought to, at just over five hundred and one hundred years respectively, have the maturity to do this but evidently not. Evidently, I am still needed to get in the middle of them and sort them out… this isn't exactly something I _want_ to be doing, yet it is necessary.

"Anyway what?" Myrnin says, slightly sourly. I take it he is still sore about my leaving him alone and moving in with Oliver.

"When do you believe that we should leave?" I ask their opinion for the first time ever, and they both look shocked at this. There is always a time to change what I do and this could be the chance to do so. There is also the fact that last time I almost messed up fatally as I chose to leave near the summer solstice, so I had to compel _many _humans who saw us (Oliver especially, I was absolutely fine and Myrnin barely burned) to forgetting what we are – we have stayed here for almost five years and I fear that if we remain here much longer, there is more of a chance that they will remember what I made them forget all those years ago. With that knowledge, we would be chased with pitchforks and I would be extremely worried for myself, and thus Myrnin and Oliver.

"I think the sooner the better," Oliver says, surprising me. I would have expected him to try and draw it out as long as possible so that it would be even longer before I moved in with him. After all, he is going to have to pretend to be my husband in social occasions – I doubt he particularly wants to be doing that! We may be 'friends' – however, he doesn't appear to enjoy spending lots of time with me and also, he always appears to want to be in charge. He hasn't exactly been able to _do_ anything to try and take over but I know if I let my guard down in the future, when he is stronger and older, he _will_ try out his luck on me… I will **never** succumb to him; his allegiance remains to be sworn to me and as long as that is in existence he **will not** try an ill advised take over plan!

"I think in about a month," Myrnin counter argues. "We have to sell these houses and buy new ones in London – as I no longer have the pickiest woman in the world living with me, I need to spend some more time thinking about the neighbourhood I wish to live in and the size of house I want," he says – I am _not_ the pickiest woman in the world! Simply because I wish to have enough rooms in the house that means that I do not have to come across him when he irritates me, does _not_ mean that I am 'picky'! Also, just because I do not wish to live in the rough side of town, close to the brothels Myrnin so favours, does not mean further mean that I am 'picky'… it simply means that I have standards and do not wish to have to _see _the horrific building where Myrnin deigns to spend most of his spare time!

"Would you be quiet?" I ask him sharply, fangs sinking down in an automatic response to the anger that is caused from what Myrnin said.

"Yes, I agree, be quiet!" Oliver snaps at Myrnin and, for once, I do not reprimand him for this. He is simply backing me up. Perhaps he will be better to live with than with Myrnin – he doesn't appear to have an interest in science, so I will not be awoken from my sleep _every night_ to pointless bangs and pops which create **nothing** of interest! I cannot decide upon this until I actually HAVE lived with both of them – perhaps my opinion of Myrnin will dramatically increase again after years with Oliver… still, I cannot say anything as of yet.

How…quaint. That is the only word I can use to even _begin_ to explain how I feel about myself right now. I mean, there is something inside of me that I cannot explain, something that seems to increase dramatically as I see Oliver. When he is in my presence, I cannot help but notice that this strange feeling is at its utmost strength… yet I cannot identify it. It is something that I have never experienced before. I don't feel as if this could be put into any type of context as to what I have experienced in my life. How can I put this? Well, there have been so many emotions that I can honestly say I have never felt so I cannot even narrow down the field, even a _little_. How awful is that for someone who likes to be in control? The only thing I can hope for is that during these next few years of my living with Oliver, the emotions will reveal their identity to me so that this _agony_ they cause me for not knowing will cease to exist. Yes, agony is one of the few emotions I have fully felt… how I wish I could change this.

"I agree with Oliver," I say slowly as I move back to the plush chair I have behind my desk. As I return to my seat, the two men do also and breathe deeply, although they have no need to. Myrnin's face looks even more hurt now than it did before; his immaturity levels seem to be on the _increase_ with age, rather than decrease! "I believe that I can have found us new accommodation and have sold this present housing in time for the end of the month – nine days time. Is this acceptable to you both?" I ask.

"Not that you were going to give us a choice anyway," Myrnin mutters darkly – just because I didn't agree with _him_ doesn't mean that he can go all moody and angry towards me. There are two reasons for why I agreed with Oliver, one practical and one more superficial. The first, practical, reason is that as soon as possible is the best course of action: I have been receiving many odd looks from the fellow residents of this town for many a reason. One is that I do not to appear to have aged (which I quite obviously haven't) and that is peculiar. The other reason is that I haven't had children. Oh, you do not know how much I wish I could have children – it is the one thing about my current way of being that I entirely regret… yet it is impossible! However, if I have been married to my 'husband' for five years, it would have been expected to have had a child almost instantly. Yet no such child has been produced (for quite obvious reasons… I am sure I haven't a need to explain such obvious reasoning) and people _must_ be growing suspicious. The witch trials are still in action across the country and I fear that soon I will be brought before a witch court (although I would run and escape) and be accused of being a witch as I am unable to bear a child. These are the primary reasons for why we must leave promptly: there are others, of course, but they aren't as important.

"Myrnin if you cannot say anything nice, please do not speak whatsoever," I say, my voice sounding like the poles the king impales the heads of traitors onto. It irritates me so that people believe that they can speak to _me_, one of the most important vampires in the world that isn't evil, in such a tone… he may be my closest friend, yet that doesn't mean that he ought to be able to speak like this to me!

"I agree with the time span, Amelie," Oliver says, and I smile at him. The feeling suddenly increases in strength, leaving me furious with myself that I cannot identify it! I have changed my mind – if it takes me five years to name it, I will have probably committed to a mental asylum! Perhaps such close proximity to Oliver every day will bring about a faster discovery… I cannot say. But I know that the length of time we shall spend together will be so much more than it is now: every moment of the day we shall be inside the same house, and he probably won't leave at night – after all, he has to be much more careful with his selection of women than Myrnin now, because he is technically 'married' to me. Myrnin always managed to keep his identity a secret to his prostitutes (mainly down to his stronger powers of compulsion, something that Oliver doesn't have) yet I do not believe that Oliver will have the same ability. If he wishes to… ah, _satisfy_ himself (something I do not see the need for whatsoever, yet men will be men) he shall have to find a brothel on the far side of London. That shouldn't be too hard, given the size of London and the amount of women who deign to _specialise_ in this unsanitary realm of life in the capital. It is just so _seedy_!

"Very well then," I say with a small smile at him. "I shall be making my way to London tomorrow night, at dusk. Would you like to assist in selecting a house to live in or shall I make the decisions?" I ask, although I already know the answer. There isn't a chance that Oliver would not come and try and throw his power around here – he will be coming. However, I cannot say that I mind. He has more… civilised tastes than Myrnin does. We are more on the same wavelength in terms of fashion, décor and where we want to live. The only thing I am _not_ going to enjoy is going to be having to continue to hear about these women!

"Yes, I shall come with you," he says in his normal tone of voice and this makes me feel happy – at least I cannot be blamed for choosing the wrong house!

"Very well," I say coolly, in my usual tone of voice. "Be here for dusk tomorrow, or I leave without you. You may go," I order and Oliver nods, standing. He bows his head before moving as fast as he can (trying to show off… unfortunately it doesn't work) to the door. Myrnin remains seated and looks at me in confusion.

"You're making a mistake, you know," he murmurs before standing himself. As he turns to walk towards the door, I feel something inside of me break. He is my best friend and I cannot have him thinking I am in the wrong… I _like_ him to approve of me!

He walks out of the door and I remain in my seat. All I can think of is Oliver. What is _wrong_ with me?

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_So, what did you think? I had almost 20 different readers for the last chapter, but only 4 reviews. I would love it if everyone who read, please reviewed (even if it is to say how much you hate it… because it's good to know how my writing is received)_

_Also, do you think I should have __**any**__ of this story written in Oliver's POV, or should it remain exclusively Amelie's?_

_Vicky xx_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3:_

_I hope that you enjoy this new chapter!_

_Also, if you can, I implore you to see The King's Speech! It's amazing!_

_Whoo, happy housing hunting this chappy… olden day style!_

_**I don't own anything**_

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_Amelie's POV:_

Dusk approaches and I wait aquietly for Oliver to show his face. He's going to have to come here through the dying rays of the sun; he deserves to suffer for a little while as I have had to in the past. Ahh, the first time I lived alone... Yes, that wasn't a pleasant experience. Vampires were even less of mythical creatures then than they are now, meaning that I was identified much quicker. I had to run away without one single thing - I had to use compulsion to set myself up in a new area (busy and bustling so I wasn't noticed as much) to obtain a home and money.

"Amelie?" Oliver's hesitant voice comes from the doorway and I internally jump in shock. Externally, I remain as cool as anything without even recognising his existence.

"You're late," I respond, noting how the sun set three minutes ago. Dusk was seven minutes ago.

"I had to go the long way around," Oliver says, trying desperately to find himself a way out of my bad books already. "You know, so that the sunrays didn't burn me. I didn't want to get burned when we have to go on a long journey where I probably won't be able to eat," he says and I feel sickened. I only ever drink when it is necessary, unlike these two savages I live in close proximity to.

"Please never mention that vulgar term again," I say, repulsed as to how easily he mentions taking human life. This is one of the many points I detest regarding being a vampire - the fact that I have to drink from humans. Living humans, as to take the blood of a dead human would be both sinful and be too close to necrophilia **(a/n - yeah, you don't wanna be doing this!) **for my liking. Yet I cannot face drinking from them then having to compell them to forget - I have to kill them. The difference between myself and the men is two things: one, I only drink when absolutely necessary and always as far away from my home as possible. Two, I do not engage in inappropriate..._relations _with the human before killing them. No, I prefer to leave that to the blood (and apparently something else) thirsty idiots I call my friends.

"What are you talking about?" Oliver asks me, perplexed - I can see he has literally just ran through every word he said in his brain.

"Where I probably won't be able to eat?" I repeat, disapproval showing in my tone. He sighs softly in understanding and shakes his head.

"What else would you have me call it?" he asks simply, shaking his shoulders in his obvious belief that he is right. "I am, after all, a vampire."

His tone and what he says irritates me further than I would possibly care to admit. How dare he insinuate that 'just because' he is a vampire, he can kill as much as he wants... And not even call them people! He just classes them as food, ready for the slaughter instantly for if he ever gets a little peckish during the day! I have a response instantly at my lips, something which will have myself win this arguments once and for all, but I do not use it: I must at least _try _to get along with Oliver, at least for now.

So I change my mouth into a small smile and continue with my preparations for the trip. Within seconds, this preparation is complete and I am standing by the door impatiently, waiting for Oliver to hurry along.

"Oh for heaven's sake Oliver, if you cannot move faster I shall have to leave you behind!" I say, to the obstruction of part of my soul. Part of my soul says that I _need _Oliver to be with me... Why on earth would that be? How quaint my body is, that suddenly I want to actually spend time with Oliver! I mean, I know I decided I wish to live with him for the next few years, but I _have _lived with Myrnin for hundreds of years - humans are so lucky that they only have to put up with their respective partners for thirty or so years. I am not even married (nor do I ever want to be) but having to put up with Myrnin _pretending _to be my husband (we almost live seperate lives entirely) is truly horrible... I cannot stand it! That's why I have to try, at least, and live with Oliver. Myrnin almost drove me to a home for the insane due to his experiments, disposal of my items and continual bringing back of women to our home. Even though I may have a few hundred years on him, Oliver will be much easier to handle. At least, I hope that is the case!

"Amelie?" Oliver says, sounding uncertain. With a slight start, I realise he has been standing behind me for the past few seconds. In human terms that isn't a lot, but vampire... Positively eons of time!

"Yes?" I ask briskly and abruptly, trying to hide my embarrassment at thinking so slowly. The fact that my thoughts took more than a fraction of a second to process is truly awful, but to do it in front of _Oliver_, now that is truly dreadful! He thinks he is the one and only vampire that needs to be around, that the rest of us are expendable. If he ever actually SAID that, I would kill him myself... I gave him this eternal life, and I most certainly have the power to take it away once again.

"Are we leaving today?" Oliver asks me and I nod, walking out of the door without a word. Slowly, I descend the stairs and note how Myrnin is coming down the street with _another _woman - we'll head out the back way! I don't particularly wish to see the identity of the woman he is planning on killing: where on earth does he bury the bodies?

"Where do you bury the bodies?" I ask Oliver, curiosity overwhelming me. He looks at me in confusion for a moment before comprehending; evidently, his hearing distance has just recognised Myrnin.

"Who said we do?" he says with a wicked grin and I instantly feel sickened. It is enough of a sin _to _kill, but to not give them a proper Christian burial? Now that would be truly horrendous. "Relax, Amelie, I compell a vicar to help us bury them in the graveyard and he gives them a proper burial. I may not believe in such a rigorously strict faith as you do but I certainly believe in God," he says, sounding deathly serious.

"Do _not _tell me to relax," I spit as I make my way through my current home to the back door. "And thank heavens for that - if I knew _you _weren't burying them, I'd be sickened. Unfortunately, I've grown to accept Myrnin's lack of faith," I sigh, unhappy how my dearest friend refuses to even partially believe in someone so much greater than himself.

"Well that pea-brain wouldn't know how to worship," Oliver says nastily - just as I've had to put up with Myrnin, I suppose I shall have to put up with Oliver insulting Myrnin. Ah well, perhaps some fresh insults shall be bore. "And I suppose you still wouldn't approve of the way we bury them," he remembers - he shouldn't have said that.

"I doubt I would, what with the religion of catholicism being so much purer and spiritually orientated than that of being of the Church of England," I say with a sniff. "All because Henry was so greedy for a son: surely he should have realised that God didn't intend for him to have a son? We wouldn't have had to survive for three decades in the wilderness, if Elizabeth hadn't have been born. Do notice that fatal flaw in your religion, Oliver... Mary may have been evil in her methods, but she wouldn't have needed to be if your 'religion' never existed," I say, air quotes around 'religion' evident in my tone. I was born Catholic and although I have seen the steady progression of Methodist and the Church of England, Henry VIII only did it to fulfill his selfish bequests of God... I have never felt the allure to join his church. I may only go to church on Sunday now, yet I still do my best - I can only hope I can find a respectable Catholic church in the area where we shall live; I do not think I could manage another period of time _having _to pretend to be Protestant just to be able to attend Church. **(a/n, my knowledge on the Tudors & this time period is near impeccable, due to excessive learning in my schooling! Ask me questions :P)**

"We would also be ruined financially and have had the dratted Mary, Queen of Scots, ruling us, Amelie," Oliver counter argues. Mary was not awful... One of Elizabeth's (I still cannot fathom why Myrnin was so taken by her) many mistakes was listening to the fabricated lie about Mary commiting treason, thus leading to her execution. "However, I _do _see your point about how we had to live in the horrific Welsh countryside. The fact that Myrnin was happy and in his home was quite possibly the worst time in my life," he groans. What a surprise, he is no longer bothered about having to leave court or even a civilisation but just that Myrnin was happy. Well, that is what I get for being friends with two people who cannot stand each other.

"We're going to walk slowly towards the edge of town because there is this one woman in the corner house with _extraordinary _eyesight and there is a chance she could spot your slow self," I smile sweetly, glad that I can find a way to so subtly insult him. He grimaces slightly and I rush to step outside the house - Myrnin is already entering!

"Very well, as you wish," Oliver grumbles but follows me down the narrow street in the darkest shadows possible. With my perfect vision, I make sure to avoid all of the pools of human excretement because, to be quite frank, I do not wish to dirty this dress. It is one of my better dresses, yet it is also one of my loosest ones thus making it perfect to be able to run in for such a distance. It is over one hundred miles to London: for me, that should take less than half an hour. However, Oliver will take a little longer than that so I must regulate my pace for him. After all, I shouldn't want him to get so tired trying to keep up with me that he tires. He would then immediately need blood and if we were to be in the middle of nowhere... Let me say now that Oliver wouldn't even be able to _consider _tasting my blood to see him through. So I would therfore be stuck with Myrnin, this time for eternity as Oliver would be dead. The only bonus I can see in this is that the incessant arguing would cease.

As soon as we are on the outskirts of town, I set off. I keep my pace the same as a one hundred year old vampire can manage without having to overexert themselves, but Oliver looks mocking.

"Is this the fastest you can go?" he scoffs, instantly riling me.

"No, in fact I simply am caring about your welfare," I sniff, not even breaking stride to talk. "As if I were to continue at my usual speed, you would attempt to keep up. This would result in you losing energy and needing to feed instantly. As the path we are taking majorly cuts through derelict or uninhabited land, you would only have _my _blood... And let me tell you this, there is not a chance that you could fathomly accept any of my blood. _That _is why I am taking it slowly," I explain over my shoulder, speeding up slightly to get into the woods by the side of the road before the carriage makes its way down this track. Oliver notices this and puts all of his effort into getting here as well, barely managing it.

"I implore you for your **excellent **warnings," Oliver says sarcastically. I notce his hands are shaking slightly and I frown - when did he last have any blood?

"Oh do be quiet, I haven't the patience to deal with your whining," I frown, looking closer at his hands. "Oliver, when was the last time you fed?" I ask him urgently.

"Two days ago," he confesses: for someone who is so used to draining people near daily (a habit that will soon be stopped), 2 days is too long a time.

"Why on _earth _didn't you feed before you came on this journey?" I hiss, noting how the carriage draws closer and closer. Perhaps... Perhaps if he were to take some blood from one of them and allow me to compell all of them to forget... Perhaps.

"I didn't particularly have the time," he sniffs, instantly making me annoyed. I'm considering conceding all of my beliefs here, just for him to feed, and he speaks to me like that? "I also... I thought I was stronger than I am. I thought I could survive for two days," he confesses and I instantly feel sorrow for him. The unidentified feelings begin to crow inside of me, instantly angering me further. _Identify yourselves!_, I yell internally. _Tell me what you are! _As living in the dark, so to speak, is already driving me insane!

"We shall make a compromise here, for one time and one time only," I say gravely. "I shall stop the carriage. I shall then compell them all to silence whilst you choose _one _person and drink a _little _blood, not enough to kill them. I shall then compell them to forget everything - if I have your word that you shall not kill or drink from more than one," I explain the plan, putting emphasis on certain words that Oliver most likely will say he 'forgot'... as if a vampire could forget something like this.

He bursts out into a smile, appearing genuinly happy. "Thank you Amelie, it means a great deal," he says happily, reaching out to touch my hand. I, however, simply remove myself from touching distance which is much to the disappointment of my inner self. _Oh do be quiet, _if the feelings cannot identify themselves to me, I see no reason why I should grace them with being able to control my emotions.

I time it perfectly: just as the carriage is passing, I slide out of the woods and stop the horses with one hand, making the far one rear un in anger. The carriage jolts and the driver makes to yell at me. Before he can, I glife over to him and open my eyes wide to compell him. He cannot move; he is simply transfixed with my strange eyes, complete with their ability to make him do or believe anything I want them to.

"Do not react," I inform him quickly, knowing that the passengers of the carriage are only seconds from coming out. "Sit here until I tell you to move. Nod if you understand," I continue and watch as he slowly nods.

With him under my compulsion, I head around to the door and hear that the eldest gentleman inside is making his way out. I wait until he has thrown open the door and looks down at me, his expression of anger turning to surprise and confusion.

"Ma'am, what on earth is going on?" he asks me, removing his hat as a sign of respect. I simply nod before lifting my head and looking him in the eye, compelling him instantly. He falls under my power and I motion for him to back into the carriage. I feel Oliver's presence behind me and instruct him with the raising of my hand to cease in his attack.

Once inside the carriage, I silence all of the confused people with one look at them.

"Oliver, you may enter," I say softly in a tone that indicates my boredom at this. Instantly, I feel his presence behind me and I place a restraining hand on his chest as he strives to begin drinking their blood. "Oliver, please calm down. Remember, you only select one person and you do not kill them. Otherwise, I sweae you will be following them," I say coolly, hopefully managing to put across just how strongly I feel about it.

"Yes, Amelie," he says, sounding as if he thinks I'm stupid. Slowly, I release him and he zooms across the small carriage... No!

I dash across behind him and wrench him backwards, holding him still. He turns to look at me with blood red eyes and fangs down, looking murderous at me because I've dared to stop him mid-attack.

"No!" I hiss, anger prompting my movements. I wrench him further away from the child. "You **never **feed from a child. Or have you forgotten your humanity entirely?" I hiss in his ear, fangs down in anger.

"You told me I could choose anyone I wanted," he responds in a snarl.

"I meant an _adult_, Oliver, I didn't think I needed to say that you do not harm the child," I respond, nearly shaking in anger. "I thought even you would be above that," I say, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. None of the humans move, even though I would have been positive my ongoing compulsion would have wavered slightly due to my anger.

"Fine, I'll go for the man then," he concedes and I release him. He heads straight for the man and sinks his fangs into his unmoving neck, drinking the blood as if it were beer for a human. After a few moments, I gently place a hand on his shoulder to signal that he needs to stop. Mere moments later, he does as I command. He retracts his fangs and turns to look at me, utterly bemused.

"I presume that this isn't a pursuit you normally take?" I ask, motioning to the surviving human. Oliver grimaces before wiping his mouth and shaking his head. "Ahh, well you see there is time enough for everything," I say before turning my attention back to the humans once again. I manage to get them all to look at me in one movement and I turn the compulsion on to the highest degree. "You will not remember any of this. This gentleman caught his neck on the door as he fell forwards. The carriage stopped because there was an animal in the road and the horses spooked. Do you understand?" I ask and they all nod, transfixed by my eyes.

Now the compulsion is complete, I motion for a sated Oliver to exit the carriage, I doing the same. Before I shut the door, I turn off the compulsion and then shimmer over to the woods. I wait as the driver begins to drive the horses again and the carriage of respectable people continues on it's way to it's destination. I can hear their discussion about the sudden stopping of the carriage and half smile as I know I've completed the compulsion entirely.

"Tremendous," Oliver gasps, standing besides me. I can see the difference the addition of the blood has done to his system and roll my eyes as he makes to look strong and powerful. He seems to have forgotten the fact I just broke my own rules for him - at the urging of this _idiotic _inner voice - and I actually completed all of the work. All he did was try and kill a child before simply drinking blood, whereas I had to _get _the situation under control then cover it up entirely. "You truly have some power, Amelie," he compliments, arousing suspicion in me instantly. Oliver NEVER compliments people, especially me... What does he want?

I look closely into his face to try and see what the answer is to my questions. However, I cannot read his eyes... He seems... Guarded, I suppose is the best word. Instantly, he blushes slightly and turns away. I feel disappointment, for some reason, as this occurs and I simply turn defensive to protect myself.

"Very well," I say to break the silence. "Thanks to your incessant need for blood, we shall be late. We must move quickly now," I snap, something inside of me deciding that to be abrupt and _vicious _is better than being my normal self. Something inside of me deicdes that to becold and cool and distant would be better than being open.

Oliver nods and sets into a run behind me, settled into his rightful place. Behind me.

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_Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the chapter._

_Tell me, do you think Oliver should have identified his feelings or be as in the dark as Amelie is? _

_The house hunt WAS going to be in this chapter, but I need an answer to the question above first! ^^_

_Please review! You KNOW you want to! I feel a LITTLE disappointed with the lack of reviews, with the fact over fifty different readers have read this story, but never fear... updates come with reviews!_

_I also have 12 years worth of French listening and reading papers, as well as 5 years of Spanish, to do before Tuesday, so please review and give me a chance to have a break!_

_Vicky xx_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4:_

_Well, the reviews are a __**little**__ disappointing, with the amount of different readers (over 70 now!) but here's an update anyway because I love you all!_

_As there was only two responses to the question, I had to just use them & my own opinion on what should happen to ascertain this chapter. So here you are!_

_**I don't own anything…**_

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_Oliver's POV:_

I follow on behind Amelie, heading to London, and feel completely rejuvenated from the addition of blood to my system. I acknowledge I _should_ have had someone before I went on this journey, but I was too preoccupied… what was I preoccupied with?

Amelie.

I was preoccupied with Amelie. I was thinking about how I should act as we select a house, well _she_ selects a house, for us both to live in for the next few years. Should I be blasé and act like I don't care… or, on the other hand, do I show how I _do_ care about where I live? Do I show how I _want_ to live with Amelie because, because I **love** her?

Yes, I said it. I said I love Amelie. I have done for many a decade now, since that fool made us live in the wilderness for three decades. Spending every single day in her company, without fail, helped secure and seal the building feelings I had for her to leave me feeling the way I do. For over a century I have lived in close proximity to her and I have loved every single second of it. The only thing I have wanted is happening – perhaps all the prayers I have prayed to God have resulted in this; Amelie choosing _me_ over Myrnin. It sounds so silly of me to be saying how I love Amelie: surely my actions of the past century have been for me to be able to steal her power in the future? Surely… surely they have, but no. No; they have been because I _love_ her – I cannot survive without her. If she was to walk out of my life now, I wouldn't be able to truly live – she is for me.

Yet why do I hide this, if I truly love her? Why do I pretend I _enjoy_ my bachelor life, going out and selecting a beautiful girl every night to just drain her after…? You see, if I reveal my feelings to Amelie or Myrnin, they will ridicule me… especially the latter. But, you see, there is a reason why I want to live with Amelie. One is that if she lives with me, hopefully I can help her see the feelings I **know** she has for me. She just cannot identify them – she hasn't anything in life to compare them to. I, on the other hand, had a fully human life and suppose I felt love then. But she hasn't ever had anything to feel love in regards to – her father is an absolute… and she was turned too young. I doubt she has ever even _kissed_ a man, not a proper kiss, let alone anything else.

"Oh do hurry up Oliver," she calls behind her and I increase my speed, realising that I have been lagging slightly. The gap between us has increased exponentially and I can see that she has noticeably slowed down for me to catch up to her. I increase my speed as she decreases hers, and I soon arrive at her shoulder. Her beauty is breathtaking: her silk dress flares out behind her, along with her loose blonde hair. Her face is so innocent and perfect; heart shaped along with prominent cheekbones and lips so naturally red they cannot be compared to blood in any circumstances.

"I apologise," I say rather stiffly, cursing myself inside. This is what I do every time I speak like this to Amelie – I hate myself for it. Yet I _have_ to behave like this; otherwise she would suspect something and make me reveal the emotions, probably ending in my death. She will only realise what the feelings are after she does this, meaning that she will live forever in pain and suffering – not exactly what I want for the woman I do truly love. However, if we are living together, I have a chance for _her_ to identify the feelings and she then isn't going to kill me, is she? She would **know** how she felt, so therefore mean that she will tell **me** how she feels, not the other way around. "Would you like to continue?" I motion for her stock still figure, the most beautiful figure I have seen in my life, to move and she looks slightly annoyed. As in, I am telling _her_ what to do!

I mean it when I say that her body is the most perfect thing I have ever seen. Those women I have been with hold _nothing_ on Amelie. She is beautiful: petite and delicate looking but with a backbone and inner strength so strong **nobody** could destroy it – even Bishop didn't manage. She has a bust, yet not overly pronounced, like so many women are, and she knows what clothing she ought to wear to draw the appeal to her… if she is in a room, every single eye is on her – the men's because they want her (their emotions are so obvious on their faces… they should at least _try_ and hide them – I have kept them under wraps for so long without one slip up) and the women's because they want to _be_ her. It's better than being me – the men see me as a threat and see me as old, whilst most women (who are sober and don't take money for… ahem, _pleasures_) stay as far away as possible. This is something that Myrnin enjoys to tease me about – _stop _thinking about him!

"Very well," Amelie says, with a suspicious look in my direction. She breaks into a run and I make sure that I keep up this time, staying just behind her shoulder all the way to London. I'm behind her; I'm in my rightful place, according to her.

Yet there is something inside of me that wishes _I _was in control and she was subject to me. Yet this is never going to be reality… is it? She is too strong to be taken over.

OoOoOoOo

"This is the house that I found; it has good links with the facilities around and I don't believe it would be hard to find supplies," Amelie says, gesturing to a house in the middle of a bustling street. Well, I _assume_ it will be bustling in the middle of the day – something that would be rather helpful for us vampires who have to stay inside during the day. The house appears to be rather spacious from the outside, with small windows in the two storeys.

"Yes, it appears to be rather nice thus far," I say, keen to see what Amelie likes her homes to be. I wonder if she has selected every home she and Myrnin have shared, or if he has had _any_ input whatsoever. I suppose that she has had to come up with homes that have had enough space for all of his science rubbish and books: she has so many books, but I believe he may have even _more_ than she does… something which I can assume that Amelie is rather bitter about.

She motions for me to enter the building first and I do this, ducking my head under the low doorframe. I notice how she has no qualms with the height of the door – presumably due to the height difference between us – and I grimace slightly… she always has it so _easy_ compared to the rest of us. Every other vampire we come across ends up eating out of her hand, she can twist them around her little finger that easily. Still, she had me twisted before she even put her blood into my system… I was fascinated with her. Part of the reason, although I will never confess this aloud I hope, I became a vampire was so that I could be with her in eternal life. She doesn't recognise the feelings I have for her (and I doubt Myrnin does either… the only thing he has ever loved is damned science and alchemy) so the idea I told her about wanting eternal life for **me **is believed by her entirely.

OoOoOo

"I have to say, I rather like this house," she comments as we finish the tour of the house. There are four rooms downstairs and six upstairs. Downstairs there is a kitchen and a small bathroom, leaving two for lounges. Upstairs there will be an individual bedroom apiece, a bathroom and three other rooms – I presume Amelie shall take at least two of them. One will be for her office and the other for her changing room… she may even take the third for a library, although I presume I shall be allowed to enter that room to read her books.

"I will agree with you there, Amelie," I say and she looks slightly confused again. She obviously isn't used to me agreeing with her – she expects conflict from me, I presume. It hurts me that she thinks I automatically disagree with her, just because she is friends with Myrnin and he hates me, as I him.

"Shall we take it?" she asks me and I think a moment. Can I live in a house like this for the next five years? Will I be able to cope with Amelie's finicky ways in a house like this?

"Yes, I think we should," I say and she smiles slightly. She looks so beautiful, if possible more than normal, when she smiles: she also looks so much younger when she does this; normally she doesn't exactly appear her tender age, yet the happiness makes her appear _less_ than her age.

"Good," Amelie replies simply. Then she turns to the door and walks out quickly, gliding almost. I follow her and I see she is heading towards a man in the corner, a man with a steady heartbeat. If it wasn't for the snack Amelie provided for me earlier, it would have made the thirst I feel already too unbearable… then again, I probably wouldn't _be_ here without that snack. She looks him in the eyes and I can tell that she is using her unbeatable strengths as a compeller to get her way. "We shall take this home. The new owners are Mr and Mrs Launceston and we shall be moving in in approximately one week. Do you understand?" she says to him and he nods blankly. She snaps her fingers and he is released from his trance, scurrying away as most street vermin do.

"That is settled then," she turns to me and says with a smile. "I have already arranged Myrnin's accommodation - somewhere he will be _very _comfortable and will have easy access to everything he wants - so now we can return to out present homes," she says. I nod in agreement and smile at the way she has said about where Myrnin will be living. I get the impression that she is being evil here… that he isn't exactly going to be comfortable, not really, in his surroundings. Then again this _is_ Myrnin we're talking about, the one who can be comfortable living out of a flour sack, so maybe he will be. Still.

Now we've arranged where we're going to live, that is step one of my plan complete. The second part: make Amelie realise that she is in love with me.

Just how am I going to do that?

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_So what do you think?_

_Please review!_

_There will be a one-shot about the time __**after**__ this story posted in the future, once the twist in the ending has been put in – there is quite a while until then though! _

_Vicky xx_


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5:_

_**I don't own anything…**_

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_Amelie's POV – the night of the move!_

It will be sad, I reflect, to leave behind such a lovely home. I feel that the past five years have brought much happiness to my life, with very few problems. I have lived happily with Myrnin but I have managed to secure myself a time in the future where I don't have to put up with his incessant annoyances! I feel that this situation with Oliver will bring about one of two possibilities. It will either make me realise that he _is_ better than I find he is now… or it will make me want to kill him more than I already do within two seconds of being in the same house as him.

Which way I will go, I do not know. However, I know one thing – we must load up this cart with the final possessions we are taking with us (i.e, all of mine and Myrnin's… Oliver only has a few books and clothing items that he feels are necessary for our new life) and get out of this town within the next half an hour. We are going to be pulling the cart ourselves, as horses are not fast enough, and we need to have arrived in our new homes by 6am tomorrow morning. Otherwise we will be seen to be pulling the cart and will be ousted as inhuman creatures before we have even began our new life.

"Amelie, is that everything?" Oliver asks me as I reach him. He moves to assist me with the final stack of books I have brought out from my library – the room is now bare. It pains me slightly to leave behind such beautiful pieces of furniture, yet I hope that I will be able to collect even better quality furniture now that we are returning to London. Soon, we must set up a business that means we can have a continual income, rather than relying on compulsion to get by… it will be more humane, more as to what I want us to be like. I never wanted to relinquish my humanity – being human was all that I wanted for the past centuries, so to be able to set up a business (with humans running it, of course… I wouldn't wish my days away _working_) would be the best thing for me.

"Yes, that is all… I believe that Myrnin is nearly finished with his items also," I respond as Oliver places the books carefully into one of the boxes filled with the item. He shakes his head at the mention of Myrnin – I presume there is _still_ isn't a blossoming friendship – and doesn't disappear off inside to help him. "Well, aren't you going to assist him?" I press, motioning impatiently with my hand for him to enter the house. As my hand moves, the sleeves of my dress shake impatiently, excessive material collecting under my arm, and I smile slightly at my chosen attire for moving. The dress is plain emerald green and is square necked, the velvet material clinging to my almost perfect figure. One bonus point I can find to being a vampire, other than the obvious points, is that I do not put on weight: every dress I have ever bought continues to fit, meaning that I can **always** have the chance to wear my favourites.

"No need, Amelie… I don't need lowlife scavengers like this one to carry my important and delicate scientific equipment," Myrnin sniffs, appearing suddenly with a box filled with items he frequently uses. I have been in his lab many a time, but I never touch anything: I am not allowed and the infrequent times I _have_ made the mistake of doing such a heinous thing, I have been rebuffed nearly instantly.

"I don't _want_ to carry your idiotic items that you probably use… ahhh, yes I shall not continue," he says, before changing course after a hard look from me. I do not _want_ to hear this _disgusting_ course of conversation they insist on heading down **every day**! It is repulsive and something _no_ lady wishes to hear!

"Very well, shall we be leaving now?" Myrnin changes the subject tactfully, leaping lightly onto the cart to place his box in the most secure place he can find. From the vindictive smile on Oliver's face, I have a feeling that he is going to be trying his best to unseat that box and ensure that the contents are tipped _all_ over the road.

"I believe that would be a good idea, yes," I agree, jumping in to the conversation before Oliver can have but a chance to argue back. I ensure that the door to the house is firmly closed before returning to the cart and unlocking the brakes. It nearly tips over, if not for the speedy reactions of Myrnin and Oliver who are at the other end and already pulling the cart along at a fast pace… I do not have to do anything here!

I run alongside the cart, noting how they are moving steadily – not too quickly for Oliver but not as slowly as for us to still be here in the morning. If we _are _unable to make it to London before sunrise, we can stop in the middle of the countryside. We can reside in the woods for the day and Oliver can stay under the opaque cover of the cart to protect his more _delicate_ body from the sun.

Hours later, we stop for a moment whilst Oliver 'takes a short break' because he is slightly tired. Myrnin cannot complain – he too was this young and I do acknowledge that Oliver is _not_ as old as Myrnin and myself and therefore cannot keep up with us as well.

"Does little-" Myrnin begins before I shoot him a death look. It is natural, reactive, and I cannot stop myself jumping to Oliver's defence. The feeling inside of me reacts to this positively, feeling pride that I am defending Oliver – _why do I feel this way?_ I mean, just what is the identity of this emotion? As I **cannot** identify it, I presume that it is something that I have never felt before, as I have already said to myself, but I do not know what it is! I wish I could speak to someone about it, but Myrnin will insult me for having _any _feelings towards Oliver other than hatred and I cannot speak to the man the feelings are about, can I?

"Are you ready to continue, Oliver?" I ask him gently, the feeling overwhelming me. I cannot react to him in any way other than kindness – I have no control over myself at the moment; the feeling does.

"Yes," he says and makes to pick up the cart but I shake my head.

"I shall take it… you should take your time and get your strength back – I cannot abide men who pretend that they can cope with things when they quite obviously cannot!" I say, regaining control of my speech although the feeling is still strong. Oh feeling, please inform me of your identity! I wish to know what you are; I want to be able to say to myself that this is love or jealousy or whatever other emotion it could possibly be that I have never truly felt!

Myrnin and I pick up the cart and we continue on our way, Oliver lingering behind us. Myrnin chuckles softly at something and for a moment I manage to be able to resist asking him what the thing is that he is chuckling at.

"Myrnin, what on _earth_ are you laughing at?" I ask him, my voice slightly cracked with confusion. Somehow, his chuckling brings up a reaction in me that makes me want to… _blush_, for some reason! Why on earth would I wish to blush at this? I have no idea, but perhaps it is going to be to do with the feeling I have that pertains to Oliver: maybe Myrnin knows what it is.

"You have no idea whatsoever, do you?" he continues to laugh. "Amelie, you have just taken on some of _Oliver's _work! Do you not realise what that quite obviously means?" he asks me and I shake my head.

"Evidently I don't otherwise I would have said, oh yes, I decided to carry the cart because and then explain the reason," I retort icily, my tone cooler than I ever thought possible.

Myrnin shakes his head and smiles widely. I can hear that behind me Oliver doesn't have any idea whatsoever what we are talking about; I believe his ego may swell dramatically if he knows that he is the subject of our conversation.

"Once you have lived with him a little while, you will understand what I mean and if not, then I shall explain all… if he cannot be man enough to do it himself," Myrnin promises me and I nod my head.

If I cannot identify this emotion which has lay dormant in me for so long, and Oliver refuses to help, then I have Myrnin. Perhaps he is more useful than I thought!

We continue on our way to our new home, a fresh start on the cards. Will this fresh start bring with it the truth about myself and Oliver?

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_Sorry, this chapter was a little shorter than I thought it would be – I wanted to put the new house bit in the new chapter along with a TEENSY bit (maybe) in Myrnin's POV._

_Please review!_

_Vicky xx_


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6:_

_**I don't own anything…**_

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_Oliver's POV:_

I move the last box of my items into the house and shake my head at the sheer amount of items that Amelie owns. I am being literal here, when I say that her property extends across 75% of the house. Even my room, as everything is boxed up, contains many of her dresses and various clothing items... And we haven't even finished moving in her stuff yet! Myrnin dumped all of the boxes next to the house, not bothering to help bring it in, before continuing on to _his _new home - which I MUST go see tomorrow - with the cart.

"Oliver, finish bringing in the boxes," Amelie instructs me; sounding as harassed as I have ever heard her. "I shall begin to unpack, so I can, ahhh, remove my presence from your room as soon as possible," she continues. She obviously doesn't understand that I _like _the fact her belongings are in my room; I _like _the fact that I am able to smell her scent from her clothing... I may have only spent approximately five minutes in my room as far, but I can still smell her scent growing more affirmed with every new box brought into the room.

"Yes, Amelie," I murmur, knowing that she most certainly she can her, before returning to the outside. I pick up four of the final eleven boxes and place them in the living room, deciding that I cannot abide walking up those stairs once again: I have been up and down them more times in the past _hour _than a human would in a _week_!

Two more trips and I have retrieved the final of the boxes, _having _to take them all up the stairs because there is absolutely NO chance that they could _possibly _fit into the living room. Amelie has began to place her dresses in her wardrobe but I have a strong feeling that she is going to have ran out of wardrobe space LONG before she has even reached the clothing she has had me place (God forbid Amelie do _any_ unnecessary work that could _possibly _make her appear unladylike) so I presume that she will have to purchase another. Then, most likely, another. The spare room which, I believe, was for relaxation during the daytime may have to become an overflow room for her clothing.

Not that I mind, or anything! I feel as if whatever she asks me to do, I'll do it without a question asked. I'll jump however high she wants me to; I'll kill whoever she wants me to... The only thing I won't do, the only thing I _can't _do, is leave. If she tells me to leave and never come back, I will disobey her. You see, it's because I cannot leave. She is the woman I love and to be alone, without her, would be truly horrific.

There's also the other reason; the reason that is so small that I barely acknowledge it's existence. There's certainly a part of me that believes that if I stay close to Amelie, one day, I can defeat her. One day, I can overcome her... No matter how much I love her, power _is _important to me. Whether lust for power or love for Amelie will win, I do not know... But believe me when I say I am NOT leaving her... Not without a fight to the death. Both sides of me agree on that!

Now that everything is inside the house with 3 hours until sunrise, I decide to begin unpacking my own belongings. The clothes I own I hang in the wardrobe; I stack the books up next to the door to take down to the library; the few decorative pieces I have collected over the years are hung on the walls. Overall, it takes me less than five minutes to unpack my entire life.

My room still appears to be a scene of absolute disgust. Amelie appears to have placed even _more _boxes in here, and there is barely enough room to walk around the bed to get to either the wardrobe or the door. It's a nightmare... I cannot believe that Amelie expects to take over the _entire _house; even Myrnin got more space than me! Speaking of Myrnin... I need to go and see his new lodgings - from what Amelie insinuated through her choice of words and tone, I presume that they aren't particularly pleasant. Ahh, the enjoyment I will have at such a fall from grace for the prince. Sorry, I mean the man who _believes _himself to be a prince, but has less claim to the English throne than Amelie, a Frenchwoman... Although the Norman's conquering of England in the 11th century in a way gives her a chance for a claim to the throne. One of the many princesses since this occurred was called Amelia... this is the English derivative of Amelie. If it wasn't for the huge awareness I know there was of mythical creatures (given it's still too high today for comfort, I cannot imagine what it was like back then!), I would have assumed that this was, indeed, Amelie!

"Oliver," Amelie calls and I feel a rush of something not dissimilar to pride as she needs me.

"Yes, Amelie'" I ask, walking from my room to hers in the space of a second. She looks frazzled, much more frazzled than I have ever seen her, and I feel a rush of fear spread through me as she snarls in my direction. Then she seems to realise this and she stops mid-snarl… I will not lie that I love the way that she is seemingly unable to continue to be nasty to me… I may be overreacting slightly, but I don't believe that she seems able to be as rude to me as she has been in the past.

"I need you to take this box of things to Myrnin," she says, indicating the box on her bed. Just looking at her makes me want to cross the room and press my lips to her… I wish I could. But I know that I would be dead within the second if I did so – if only that was not the case!

"Amelie, the sun is coming up," I inform her, crossing the room to shut the shutters as I realise how close we are to being in the grasp of its rays. Amelie nods and presses her fingers to her temples, not even sorting out her skirt before sitting down on her bed. I'm amazed that she has actually _found_ the bed – after all, it is covered in a mountain of things, including a box of things that I recognise as Myrnin's. I suppose breaking them is out of the question?

"Very well… go there tonight, as soon as the sun goes _down_," she says, sounding slightly irritated. I feel my heart sinking slightly, no matter how still it is, at the fact that she can speak to me like this; does she not realise that I am in love with her? "In the mean time, please unpack the books into the library… I heard that you had finished unpacking and were simply standing still. One thing Myrnin understood was that I cannot _stand_ people simply standing around… unless you suddenly take up an interest in science or alchemy; I presume that you shall be reading. If you are not, then most certainly tapestry or other options _are_ open to you," she continues and I get the strange feeling that she isn't joking.

"Very well," I say with a nod, bowing my head in 'respect' for the vampire ruler I _know_ I cannot beat. Not yet… anyway…

_That night…_

I pick up the box of Myrnin's belongings – and the promise from Amelie that if any of the contents are broken on the way there, then my face is also broken – and walk out of the door into the street. The street is already pitch black and every single house has already shut up for the night – it is sort of eerie, the way that _nobody_ is roaming the streets. It makes me slightly nervous… the first time I have felt this way in my vampire life, and I am walking through _London_, to give _Myrnin_ a box of stupid things – I doubt that I wish to look too closely at the items.

I follow the lingering scent of Myrnin's on the road, from when he took the cart through here last night, and find myself heading into a rather more _unsavoury_ area of London. An area where I can begin to appreciate the brilliance of living with Amelie – if it was her with Myrnin I can only presume I would be living… RIGHT NEXT TO THE BROTHEL? I cannot believe that Amelie has housed Myrnin in the most disgusting of places – it is truly marvellous!

There is a difference between _going_ to brothels and living near them. You see, when I lived alone, I would walk to the brothel because they are seedy places and they often have the most lowlife people in the entire town nearby. Evidently, Amelie believes that this includes Myrnin… I presume that this is her payback for the last five hundred years for her suffering!

I follow the road around and duck into a dark alleyway as some people (if you can call the prostitute that and the _gentleman_ she is with) come down the road, before continuing on. I find that the scent stops outside a disgusting looking building, soot and dirt covering the front of it. I walk up to the front step and open the half open door, following the scent up the stairs to the top floor. My nose wrinkles of its own accord as I try to block out the scent of cigarettes, alcohol and sweat… I don't even _want_ to mention what my ears are hearing!

I knock at the door to Myrnin's flat – already a sign of his lack of fortune – and he opens the door with a disgusted look on his face. I can tell that he has already been cleaning, with strong reeves wafting out of the door – I never thought that Myrnin would be concerned regarding cleanliness, but evidently even _he_ is in a place like this.

I cannot help myself laughing as he shows me in. I see that he has pushed his bed into the far corner and that there is simply two rooms – a 'bathroom' without even a cess pit and the living room/bedroom where we currently stand.

"Shut up, I presume that you are living in a palace?" Myrnin asks with a grimace. He takes the box from me and dumps it on top of one of the many other boxes that line the room, too many for him to unpack.

"Compared to this, I am!" I agree and he shakes his head, muttering too quietly for me to hear.

"She's doing this as a punishment for the past centuries where I have forced her to live in conditions where she hasn't been comfortable: she _knew_ I was a scientist and had to make the noise and I needed the sexual pleasure!" he says ridiculously quickly – if I didn't have as good a hearing as I do, I would have had no chance of understanding this!

"Or she has always known this and has simply been waiting for the perfect opportunity to give some revenge on you?" I ask with a vindictive grin. Oh, this revenge is sweet! I have to hand it to Amelie; she has found the most ideal place.

"How the hell she found this, I do not have a clue," Myrnin continues, as if he didn't hear me. "But I know one thing," he says and then acts so quickly that I do not have a _chance_ of reacting quickly enough. He punches me in the face, hard, and sends me sprawling to the floor.

"What was that for, you manic fool?" I ask him, snarling as I wipe blood from my mouth. I stand up and square off to Myrnin, standing my ground.

"You love my best friend, you absolute psychopath!" he hisses and I feel _any_ colour in my face draining out of it. Just _how_ does _he_ know? I haven't told anyone and I haven't written it down anywhere! "Oh, do you _really_ think that you have been hiding your feelings? I have seen through them the entire time, Oliver, and I can see just how she loves you back. The only reason why she hasn't realised this is because she has never experienced this emotion before… but if you do not make her realise her feelings soon, or tell her, then I swear I will tell her myself," he threatens. Whoa, I cannot keep up. My brain just can barely keep up with this rapid stream of words. He knows that I love Amelie. He knows that Amelie loves me back but doesn't know this because she has never felt this before. He is going to tell her, soon, if I don't manage to make her realise that she loves me first.

Bollocks.

"How did you know?" I ask and he smiles. He turns away from me and begins to fiddle with one of his microscopes, grinning widely.

"I saw the way that you looked at her and that you wouldn't _ever_ not do as she asked," he explains. "I could see that she loved you because she always made sure that you weren't in danger or assisted if you were. She would do anything to keep you close to her, but she never realised, she _still_ hasn't realised, that this means that she loves you," he continues and I nod. I lean against the recently cleaned wall and think this through. Myrnin knows that I love Amelie. He has every opportunity he wants to go and tell her… please let him not do that.

"Don't tell her," I plead and he nods.

"I wouldn't!" he says, sniggering slightly. "Do you think I want _her_ to kill _me_ about that? No, I am going to let _you_ confess your own feelings to her, so that she will kill you. But I am not unfair. I will give you a fair chance to let her work out her own feelings for herself, so that she will not mourn your death… although she may kill you anyway… I hope," he drifts off, obviously dreaming of my death. I wish, I wish, that I could have Amelie now… but she will not realise her feelings – will she?

"How long?" I ask quietly. "Six months," he says in response, making my heart sink once again.

I haven't got a hope in hell.

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**What did you think?**

**Please review! I'd love more reviews :P hehehe - hope you liked the chapter!**

**Vicky xx**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

_~ Let your Love be like the misty rain, coming softly, but flooding the river ~ **Madagasan Proverb**_

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_Myrnin's POV:_

Oh, this is such a travesty. I cannot believe that this disgusting thing, that I don't believe deserves to be called a vampire, is in love with my best friend... It's not normal! He doesn't deserve to be in love with her! She is too good for him, she is his superior... if she is _my _superior, she most certainly is his!

I sound as if I, myself, am in love with her but that is not true. I am merely looking out for the interests of my good friend, the one who keeps us out of trouble as much as possible, the one who organises everything we need for survival in this life. I don't think that Oliver is a good thing for her... He's only after her for her power, so he can pretend to love her, to manipulate her emotions, and then destroy her.

I cannot let that happen. She cannot be destroyed by an emotion which he is manipulating. If that was allowed to happen on my watch, I could never forgive myself. That's why I set such an unrealistic time scale: he's never going to be able to confess her feelings first in that time... It took her nineteen years to decide to turn me **(sorry a/n - story called Friendships Begin Somewhere) **so I'm hoping that the six months definitely won't prompt such a life changing decision. This means that when Oliver tells her how he feels, she (hopefully) will get so mad and worked up that she ends up killing him. Unfortunately, she would end up hating herself afterwards and regretting his death but _at least there'd be no more Oliver_! If that isn't something to celebrate, I don't know what is.

I begin to unpack the box of items that Amelie had her unknown lover send over to me. I can only hope that she doesn't see sense (for Oliver) in six months as otherwise I may have lost my best friend, my _only _friend, forever.

Even if she _did _put me in an appalling home!

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_Amelie's POV:_

Unpacking is such a chore; I have never seen the allure of having to place items in new rooms, just for them to be moved when you need them. Yet it is something which crops up every few years, causing some hours of utter boredom as I have to place countless items that have built up over the years in new places, where they most likely shall not fit!

Oliver certainly is taking his time, delivering those items to Myrnin, but I shall not complain. After all, I rather need the solitude for a short while. This strange feeling inside of me most certainly rears it's head when Oliver is around, cementing my belief that whatever it is, is to do with him. I can only imagine what it is... I only hope that this stay in a home with him means that this can be identified and lifted from its dormant state in my heart. I can only wish to know what this emotion is in me, the emotion which is _driving me to insanity_ because it shall not reveal itself. If it doesn't soon, I shall have to confront Oliver and ask him if he feels the same… it shall be the only way for me to get peace, closure, _understanding_.

Now that I have managed to _finally_ finish unpacking the mountain of boxes covering my room – I will not lie, it was a struggle to fit every item of clothing into the mediocre wardrobe spacing – I can relax. So, I head out of my bedroom and down to the living area, where I check that the curtains are fully assembled for during the day, and pick up my book. It is rather strange, for I do not see the allure this book has to other women, or so I have heard. It is a romantic novel, about two people who apparently love one another, but the woman is unaware of these feelings. The male in the story is trying to bring her round to understand her feelings, but she is non-obliging… then her closest friend threatens the lover that she doesn't know exists, so he (the lover) has to tell her his feelings. It's just so unnatural; I cannot believe that something like that could occur in real life!

I set myself down in the checked chaise lounge I brought with us, and I begin to read from where I marked off. I prefer to read at a more human speed rather than vampire - I like to absorb the information and read as slow as possible, to make me feel more normal. I am rather tired, from the journey and the unpacking, but I cannot go to bed yet. I need to stay up and awake, for when Oliver returns, as well as not to appear weak to him… I hate the way that I must appear strong continually in his presence, as so that he does not try and steal my power (although, if I am frank, he has no chance against me) as it means that I can never just be _me_. Perhaps if that were possible, I could identify whatever it is that makes me long for him continually – who knows? The thing I know now, however, is that I am tired and can barely keep these yawns contained within me.

"Amelie," Oliver's voice startles me: when did he come home? I jump infinitesimally before rearranging my face to hide the shock and to regain my emotionless mask. "Is there anything you wish for me to do?"

"Something other than standing there," I reply crabbily, angered that he snuck up on me. "Unless you would rather learn tapestry or something similar than whatever you would like to do," I continue, turning and standing fluidly. I shut the book with a large snap in the sudden silence caused by my words. Oliver looks at me with a guarded expression, his eyes carefully guarding whatever he feels inside. I try to unlock them but before I can, he turns away to hide himself.

"Very well," Oliver says curtly, something lingering in his tone - but what? He marches swiftly from the room and I hear him entering the library, picking up a book from the shelf. He settles down in a chair and reads the book slowly; he does as I do... He doesn't flick through the book, like Myrnin, and allows his vampire senses to draw in the information - he reads at a speed similar to my own. How very quaint! Myrnin used to ridicule me for this belief that reading at a normal pace is a good idea, insinuating that I am the only one who does. Yet he is wrong! Here, Oliver also does it; perhaps it is only _Myrnin _who reads (continually; I shall not lie and say I never read at his preferred speed) at this speed!

"Is this acceptable?" he asks me, an undercurrent of anger evident in _his _tone. How dare he! What right does he have to be angry at me in _my _home? That's right, he doesn't!

"Be quiet Oliver, you are giving me a headache with your whining," I murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. At least living with Myrnin meant that I didn't have to cope with this; of course his mood swings were rather horrendous, but he stayed in his room mainly when these hit and I could deal with them easily. Oliver... I cannot read as easily as Myrnin: he is a mystery to me, someone whose feelings and opinions I cannot discover with as much clarity as others.

"Yes, milady," he says sarcastically. I roll my eyes extravagantly and sigh extremely audibly - I wouldn't be surprised that, if there was a human where Oliver is currently located, they would be able to hear it.

"_Manners_, Oliver," I sigh, with a dull and bored tone to my voice. He snorts slightly... Is he laughing? My, that is a new experience: usually when I am irate with someone, laughter and joy is _not _the response!

I hear motion and turn delicately to face Oliver as he enters the room.

"Would you like some tea?" he asks me, surprising me entirely. He is asking if I would like something... So _civilised _for Oliver! His usual drink involves a young girl and their neck - _tea _is not something I would particularly expect Oliver to want... Or ask another if they would like it. Still, it is a nice gesture. Since I moved to England, many centuries ago, I have had an extreme love for the English tradition of tea. 10pm is a little early for 'afternoon tea' so I shall simply have a cup of tea. 10pm is early to mid morning for a vampire, given we do the majority of our activities - besides exclusively indoor things such as reading - throughout what the humans deem to be night time.

"That would be lovely," I say with a small smile. "If you even _consider _putting anything in it, remember that I can hear you and then can smell the addition you have made to it. I would then advise you to run. Do you understand?" I add, suddenly remembering that I probably shouldn't entirely trust Oliver... I haven't a full perception of him yet, so I cannot fully guarantee he will not truly and do something.

"Would I _ever _do anything like that?" he asks me, attempting to sound sincerely shocked that I could think such a thing.

"With some of the things you have done to Myrnin, I cannot truthfully say no," I retort quickly, before turning my attention back to the book. I read the final pages at vampire speed - I did say that I do sometimes use these benefits to my senses - before standing upright. I fix my skirts of the simple dress I deigned would be suitable for unpacking today, before moving quickly to the library to place the book away. There is no need for me to use a candle to see my way through the corridors to the location I desire; my eyesight is perfectly adequate to accomplish this.

Once inside the library, I receive a quite welcome surprise. When I asked Oliver – well, ordered really – to put the boxes of books in here, I believed at the very least he would take me literally and simply abandon the books. I also believed that it may have been possible for him to half heartedly place the books on the shelves, in no real pattern or order whatsoever.

How wrong was I?

He has arranged everything according to genre and then alphabetically. For example, he has placed every play on one bookshelf, then 'sub-genre' into tragedy, romance and comedy before then alphabetised. I not how the majority of the plays have been written by the great bard, William Shakespeare, but then there are also the Greek stories from which he almost entirely stole the ideas for the plays. I note that I have to place my book which I have just finished is to be placed into the section of 'romance' and _Oliver has even left a space for it_.

I cannot explain just how shocked I am. It is indescribable how much I have been shaken to the very core by his actions; I never thought he was meticulous enough to be able to do something like this!

In a daze, I select Romeo and Juliet, the tragedy by William Shakespeare, from the shelf and return to the living room. Yet I cannot focus on the unopened book in my hand – I can only think about Oliver. He has surprised me more than I care to admit… who knew that he would be capable of something which has wormed him into my heart in a way I cannot confess? I cannot identify this… _thing_ that is inside of me, that rears it's head when I am near Oliver or when he does something, but I cannot help but notice how it is reacting to this… it is excited. It is happy that he has done something like this – it likes how Oliver has surprised me.

"Here you are, Amelie," Oliver says with a smile I did not expect as he hands me my tea. "Good choice in your book selection – however, I have to say that the constant whining between the pair of them about how much they love one another is rather whimsical and tedious. Yet I have to admire the way that they both admit their feelings for one another so quickly and seem to be happy, for the short while at least. Ahh well, I shall be off to read in the library if you need me," he continues, but I do not particularly pay attention to the words he relays. I seem captivated by the movement of his mouth, the way that only some teeth are revealed… I do not know _why_ but I am riveted by him.

I take a sip of the tea before setting it on the side. It tastes slightly different but my senses are so… _distorted_ by what he did, I would not know if he had added anything to it. Yet I do trust him right now – I am tired and my senses are weakened, but I _hope_ that I would recognise if I were being poisoned. I also feel that my threats – I hope I did not betray my tiredness – will have prevented him from doing _anything_ stupid or reckless to my drink.

Sleep begins to creep over me like a delicate fog, silently so that I do not recognise that it is coming until it has overpowered me. Why I am falling asleep, although I do not want to, is beyond me but it cannot come fast enough. I am tired, so tired that I cannot even make it to bed – I must stay here.

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_Third person perspective:_

Amelie's eyes drift shut, as if there is a lead weight on them and they cannot remain open. All strength leaves her as her body deigns to join the land of the unconscious, rather than remain meekly in the land of the living. As her eyes shut, her hand falls limply into her lap, resting on the book that she did not open, and she shows the most vulnerability that she has _ever_ done in such a public (as in there is a possibility that another being may see her this way) place before.

She may be weak here, but is there someone going to take advantage of this? Is there a _reason_ why she fell into such a stupor, and so suddenly?

Where is Oliver and does he have an ulterior motive?

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**So what did you think?**

**I decided to go into third person at the end because you find out the answers to these questions (maybe… if you review) next chapter, so I thought it'd be nice to have a description of Amelie going to sleep not blighted by Oliver's feelings or whatever.**

**Please review! I'm a little disappointed with reviews and such, when so many people read it; don't be a passerby and allow others to review... Do it yourself, for me! **

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**Vicky xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

**Yay, another new chapter! You get this because I'm nice & also because I've finished the next chapter!**

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_Oliver's POV (about three hours after Amelie, ahem, is drugged)_

I don't know why I did it. I don't know _why_ I decided to drug Amelie. All I knew was that I was putting the plant substance into her tea; I didn't know why I did it, or what ulterior motive my subconscious mind had... The only thing I knew was that Amelie would be unconscious for a short while. Perhaps there was a reason why I did it but, if so, I haven't found it yet.

It seems like the power thirsty part of me, the one which is dominated by the love I have for Amelie, managed to overcome me at that time. It managed to get control of my body and decide that I wanted to make her weak and susceptible to me… so that if I decided to take over, she wouldn't be able to stop me.

_That's_ why I put the drug in her tea. It was odourless, so she had _no_ chance of even smelling it, but my evil side didn't care about that. That side of me was too busy rubbing it's hands in glee as it knew that Amelie was weakened by her body (not her mind… yet, at least) realising it's love for me. It knew that even if I put the most pungent and tangy smelling drug in, she wouldn't be able to smell it; she would be entirely immune to it. It knew that… I am only glad that I managed to regain control of myself before it could act.

Once I gave her the drink, I wanted desperately to take it back. But when she began to fall asleep, she looked so _peaceful_, as if she had finally managed to get to be in a state of relaxation. After all, she is always so _edgy_ and fearful that her, _our_, rivals will come for us – perhaps I wanted, even my 'good' side, her to just be able to sleep away some time – I just want her to relax a little. And if the only way that this can be done, this _could_ be done, then I don't mind doing it.

Even if it was for different reasons.

I know that the power hungry monster is building up inside of me; I know that it is biding it's time and waiting to overthrow me. I know this all… yet I must ignore it. After all, if I relent, if I give in to this beast inside me, then what chance have I got in Amelie and I being happy together?

There wouldn't be a chance in hell.

I creep downstairs, fearful that she may wake up, and observe her sleeping body. She looks so vulnerable, so delicate – like a china doll, but she has never looked more beautiful. Her simplicity, her innocence evident as she sleeps draws me in closer to her, leaving me unable to ignore her perfect beauty. I want to sweep her up into my arms and lay a tender kiss upon her perfect lips… I want to do this more than anything.

Yet I cannot. There isn't the chance for me to do this; she will be awakening soon. If she awoke to such an experience, I don't think I would be surviving longer than it takes her to lift the poker from beside the fireplace and to thrust it into my heart. Oh, how I wish things were different. If only… if only they were different. Then, perhaps, we could be happy.

Six months… this is the timescale I have to make her fall in love with me… I don't know whether or not this is viable, feasible in its nature, but I will try. I will endeavour my every ounce of soul and being into making Amelie realise that we belong together.

What have I got to loose?

_Amelie's POV:_

Oh, my _head_! It feels worse than when the time I remember when I was human, and there was a huge feast to celebrate my 'coming of age' – my ability to be married off to whoever paid the most to my Father. Thankfully, this never happened. Yet when you look at the way that this is a plus, it is also a negative; this was because my life was ended prematurely, on the whim of my Father. However, I don't want to think about that right now.

Where am I? What am I doing here? What _happened_ to make my head ache so badly? If it wasn't for the fact that I _know_ I haven't drank any alcohol – primarily due to the short length of time I have lived here and the lack of ability to buy the alcohol – I would presume that I was suffering from the side effects some people call a 'hangover'. I also know that that isn't the case, as for a vampire to be drunk an _extraordinary_ amount of alcohol would have to be consumed; I have seen it in action (Myrnin, _quelle surprise!)_ and know that it takes a minimum of seventeen bottles of the most mature wine possible to achieve even the mildest of drunken behaviour.

I open my bleary eyes, feeling fear for a moment as my vision is blurred before my eyes adjust to normal. I am sitting in the living room, my hand resting on the unopened Shakespeare play I deigned to pick up… when is it? Is it morning or night – in human terms? Is it simply the next day or have I done as I did once before and fall into a stupor so deep that it took three days for my body to awaken, as I didn't rest in so long? I remember feeling extremely tired in my last thoughts but not wanting to do anything to counteract this fatigue for fear that Oliver could use it against my will.

I stand fluidly, ignoring the aching of my throat as I yearn for blood, and stalk across to the window, opening the thick woollen curtains to observe the scene before me. It is night time, the sky as ebony black as ever, with dark rain clouds rolling in across the skies. So does that mean that I have simply wiled the night away, and it is early morning, or that I have slept through an entire day in the living room of a house which I share with one of the most mysterious (my body wishes to add alluring for some strange reason) men I have ever met. I sincerely hope that it isn't the second option, because that would be a travesty.

"Amelie?" Oliver's meek voice comes from behind me, causing me to spin around in a mixture of emotions: fear, anger, embarrassment – these are some of the first emotions that spring to mind. I know these ones well – not at all like the one I _still_ cannot identify that Oliver causes – from experiences in my past. Fear, from when I feared my father as a human; when he advanced on me after revealing his vampire self to me before turning me; when he continually threatened me… I learnt anger from these experiences, but also throughout my long life, by which many different things have caused me to experience this most vivid emotion (not all were committed by Myrnin, would you believe) but embarrassment is one I know only fleetingly. The time when I killed my first human for blood, that was embarrassing for me – I didn't want to be a monster, yet there I was, killing humans. Embarrassment flooded me when Myrnin asked about my sex life and then expected an answer… oh yes, I have _never_ been as embarrassed as that _ever_, and I doubt I ever _will_ be… unless Oliver dares to broach the subject.

That is what sets us apart. He wanted to be this way. He wanted to be a vampire, to live forever; I didn't. Until my father turned me, I never even _considered_ the existence of vampires. However, Oliver wanted to be an immortal in exchange for having to drink human blood and stay out of the sunlight. The fear he _must_ have felt as I approached him to turn him must be nothing in comparison to what I felt, when I was turned against my will entirely. If I had the choice between being a vampire or staying human, the human option would have been made in a heartbeat – no pun intended.

"Yes, Oliver?" I ask, snarling the words nearly… I hate to be caught off guard and for him to have possibly seen me throughout the day, in the most vulnerable state I could ever find myself in.

"I simply wished to ask if you enjoyed your sleep," he says nonchalantly… I know that I have passed more than a few hours sleeping – the minimum of throughout the entire day.

"How long did I sleep for?"

"You fell asleep last night, approximately ten pm and it is 2am currently, so I would say approximately twenty eight hours," he horrifies me by answering. "Why?"

"No reason," I respond quickly, tracing my hand throughout my tightly coiled hair.

"Did you have a particular need for sleep?" he asks me, sounding rather curious. However, there is something below that… something sinister – something that causes chills to my bones, yet I would not admit that.

"As I have been unable to rest for three weeks, due to this move and arranging accommodation and such, as well as having to move the cart, I haven't exactly made sleep a priority," I admit, yet almost defensively. I cannot allow him to see any weaknesses on my part – that would make living with him for the next how many years unbearable – something I _wish_ I had known for Myrnin. I confessed more weaknesses to him, partially through how long we lived together for and how close we were, than I care to admit and he used them against me continually.

"Ahh, well, yes that is rather a shame," Oliver says, the undertone to his voice part of the reason why I _wanted_ to keep the weaknesses hidden. It scares me – something which I do not often reveal. Showing the fear I have for things is not a path I usually take…and to be considering taking it is something which scares me even more. What has happened to me? I do not know, but if it is Oliver, he will die. Unless this feeling inside of me declares itself shortly, I will not be able to stop myself from ripping him limb from limb if I fear he is a threat to me and my power. "I was planning on heading off and getting something to fulfil my thirst. I presume, as you have not fed in many a day, you would like to join me?" he asks and I hesitate. I need to drink – the burning agony barely concealed in my throat is screaming for me to simply accept – but do I trust him enough?

"Very well, I need to drink and we may as well go together," I concede, looking deep into his eyes. I cannot see any maliciousness there, or the fact that he is planning on _attempting_ (remember, I am older and stronger than he is) to harm me, so we may as well go to kill in the same area. It will make it less suspicious when the bodies are found. I would like to not kill, but I fear my thirst is so great that restraining myself will mean my body does not get enough nutrition that it needs and then I shall have to go out more frequently, to behave like the monster of the night I am nearly every night.

"Five minutes?" Oliver suggests and I nod, moving swiftly from the living room to my room before he has even finished speaking. I quickly change in preparation for this hunt… after all, if I am the last thing they shall ever see, I may as well _look_ nice!

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**What did you think?**

**You know what I'm going to say...**

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**Vicky xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

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_Oliver's POV:_

I have to say, Amelie hunting is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen in my life. She is such a seductress, appearing so beautiful and as if she is an angel who has been sent to take the unfortunate soul she has chosen to kill to heaven herself.

Unfortunately for them, she isn't _quite_ the angel… more the henchman of the devil, using seduction, manipulation and _murder_ to get what she needs. I can tell that she doesn't particularly enjoy the kill, unlike myself and Myrnin (one thing we actually agree on), but she does it to survive… after all, would Amelie _ever_ relinquish the power she has for something so menial? No, of course she wouldn't.

"Are you finished, Amelie?" I ask quietly, as I stand up after leaving the body of the victim I selected when we came here. She stands up and turns to face me, wiping her mouth surreptitiously to remove any residue of blood around her mouth. The beautiful blonde hair I adore is twisted back in a coiffure so _Amelie_, it takes my breath away - if I had any need for it!

"No, I decided that a mass slaughter of the entire town of London is _just _what I need," she says, her tone thickly laced with sarcasm.

"I would be _more _than happy to oblige to that," I respond, calling her bluff. She makes a 'huffing' noise and rolls her eyes but does not speak; this isn't something I'm used to, a silent Amelie! However, she looks up at me and as our eyes lock, she smiles... Almost subconsciously, as if simply a reflex - perhaps the reflexual actions of her feelings for me - is dictating that she is to smile at me.

"Let's go," she says, but makes no move to do as she says. She lingers over the dead body of the man she killed for his blood; the most precious thing in the world, even to a human. It symbolises power, strength and life... But when you see the blood, it resembles death. People consider vampires to be the only ones who hold any value to blood, but humans do too: why else do they slay each other in battle or grin as a public execution occurs?

I nod slowly and watch as she moves towards the door, never breaking eye contact with me until she reaches it, when she opens it near silently. "Why _do_ hurry, Oliver... It cannot be far from dawn and unless you wish to be found at the scene of a double homicide, I should leave now," she says, back to cool and business like. As I look into her eyes, I see the flicker of her emotions for me but it is safely guarded by the security of power and control - she has locked away her inner feelings.

"Yes, milady," I murmur and shut the door quietly behind myself. Amelie has already raced off, a stunning predator in her emerald velvet gown, and I follow her scent around the corner. I tell that she is heading straight home, so I take a short cut through the square to end up having her in my line of sight as she reaches the house. She waits outside and seems slightly shocked to see me already approaching her; of course she won't have considered that I could have possibly cheated, she will simply think that I'm extremely fast and will be threatened by me.

"How did you make it here so quickly?" she asks, shock evident in her tone. Her eyes narrow as she tries to read my face, her question hanging in mid-air between us as the tension emitted from the lingering silence becomes more tangible.

"Just took a few shortcuts," I shrug, in a blasé tone. I wasn't going to confess to this, but her face breaks down my strength and I end up revealing my trickery. Instantly, her expression clears and she smiles, her dominance as Queen Vampire reaffirmed.

_Not if I have anything to do with it_, my evil side utters inside of me, rubbing its figurative hands in glee. That isn't true... I would never do anything to harm Amelie and would never imagine that I could take her power - it isn't feasible and I wouldn't be strong enough even if I wanted to!

"Of course," she murmurs, almost to herself. "When _wouldn't_ you cheat to try and appear victorious?" she says, _definitely_ directed at me. Dammit, this isn't exactly helping in the crusade to get her to realise that she loves me; even though hatred is only able to occur when you love someone (as you have to care for them deeply to be able to give the emotion of hatred) so technically it may be assisting!

"Was it ever… never mind," I begin to argue back, but then cut myself short. If she is _already_ annoyed with me, why would infuriating her further help my cause? It wouldn't; that's the answer!

"Anyway," she says with a tossing of her head. "I believe that there are still some boxes of my belongings in your bedroom," she changes the subject. I nod slowly, as I remember there is… she opens the door and walks into the living room, a room which she has occupied for the entire day, and settles down on the sofa this time. "I am afraid that… I have too many things, so I need to arrange those first. Therefore I would appreciate it if you left those boxes in their current location, if it isn't too much of a hassle, and I shall get around to them in due course."

"Of course, that is an entirely acceptable thing to do," I say instantly, keen to do _anything_ that could possibly increase my standing with her. After all, living with Myrnin all these years _must_ have made her take on some of his opinions of me at least. And I doubt she has the most savoury of opinions about me, either, that she has made primarily.

"Good," she states, before lapsing into silence once again. "Well… I should be off to finish with some of the boxes in my room. Goodnight, Oliver, and I should hope to be getting around to those boxes you are keeping for me within the next three or four weeks," she continues, standing up and walking towards the door.

Inside, I think to myself that I want to keep these boxes forever… they're a part of Amelie in my room – something that I have to admit, is pretty good.

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**So, not much happened, right? Well, think about it this way: we get something pretty interesting next chapter! Compared to this, at least... The one after... Oooohhhhh, c'est très interessante!**

**So, go ahead, press the review button AND GET THE NEXT CHAPTER! It's easy!**

**Vicky xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

_New chapter for you all!_

_Apologies for you people who have already read this chapter - I made some edits and stuff, so I reposted it! This is the third time I have typed this message - my laptop is screwing up with the internet and stuff... so enjoy it (again)!_

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_Oliver's POV:_

I set the pen down on the table with a light 'thud' and observe the piece of paper filled in lines of itallic handwriting. As I wait for it to dry, I read it over, making sure that the memories I wish to seal in my mind are accurate, so that I don't remember things the wrong way.

I suppose you could call this my diary, but I don't. I simply see it as reassurance that my wonderful memories shall not be forgotten in time. Why would I want to forget these months, being able to be with the woman I love?

_Amelie is the one I love. She is the only one I have ever loved. It took me a while to realise that she was the one for me, but when I did it hit me hard. The realisation that I __**did **__need someone threw me, and for a time I contemplated stealing her power so that I wouldn't have to feel this way anymore. However, that never worked... The feelings I had, have, for her overthrew any possibility of that happening._

_Yet there is still the residual part of me that wants power; there is still the want to overthrow Amelie and take my rightful place as ruler. If she wasn't around, if it was only Myrnin, I would be ruling already... Only her power and control over me keeps this evil side of me in check. It knows that we wouldn't succeed if I tried to overthrow her; although it has had the opportunity. If the love I have for Amelie wasn't so strong, so pure, it would have been pushed aside so that when her drink was spiked, she would wake up under my control. She would belong to __**me**_**, **_not the other way around. She wouldn't be my ruler, but my own assistant._

_However, Amelie is too much in my thoughts, me too much under her spell. I cannot do anything to harm her... But..._

_... But I want to. I can feel it inside of me, something yearning to be able to finish her power, to let me be the leader. It terrifies me every time I think of it because I know that if I don't keep at least seventy percent focused, my evil side will win trumps down. I'm not as strong as I appear to be; I cannot fight and be this amazing person. That's why I appear so awful - it's a choice between nearly my complete humanity and conscience or my evil side taking over... Which would result in an entire loss of these two things. Some is better than none, I suppose._

_I love Amelie... I only hope that she realises soon, before this deadline approaches. Already nearly six weeks have passed since I drugged her tea and I feel as if I am no further forwards in my quest; if anything, I feel as if I have reversed._

That's all I have... This 'entry' joins the ones I write every now and then; whenever the mood strikes me that I ought to write an entry do I write one.

I slide the sheet of paper into the book in which I hide these particular things; if Myrnin was to find them, he would ridiciule me for the rest of our lives. However, if _Amelie _found them... She would kill me. If she knew that there was even a _little _(and in all honesty there is more than that) of me that wished her to be under my control, I wouldn't be surviving more than another minute. And if she didn't kill me for that, there would be at least another two reasons: one, that I drugged her drink, and two, that I love her. She needs to discover this feeling on her own... Without my assistance, or the assistance of my memoirs.

I climb into bed as dawn hastens around the corner, smiling slightly as I think of Amelie. I can hear her moving around downstairs and, even if asleep, if she calls for me, I shall go. Why? I love her. I have to go.

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_Amelie's POV:_

How peculiar! I could have sworn that I fully unpacked every box in this living room when I arrived. There are still three boxes in Oliver's room, which he has kindly allowed to stay for this duration of time, but every time I have entered this room, I haven't seen this box. How very odd!

I hear Oliver moving around the room upstairs and I feel something hitting my chest. It's this emotion! I feel it _every _day... It is driving me insane! I feel as if I am very close to figuring out what it is; at least, this is what I hope.

I reach the other side of the room, where the box is, and pick it up. It is rather full but not at all heavy for me - vampire strength has it's perks! I place the box down on the table and begin to open the top of it... Oh my. This isn't what I wanted to see.

As I pull out the portrait taking up most of the box, I recognise what is in the box. I didn't unpack it in the last place, or the fifteen before, for a reason.

As I look at the portrait I feel faint and fall to the floor, clutching the portrait. This isn't good, not at all. I can't bare to feel these feelings again. I locked them away years ago for a reason... Please, oh please, don't let them come out!

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**Ooohhh, cliffhanger! What did you think?**

**Please review! Mas reviews = the next four ready prepared chapters able to be updated sooner!**

**Aussi, if you like Sam/Amelie, I started a new story called Looks of An Angel, which, although it is beginning with Sam and his lost wife, it is ulitmately going to be Sam/Amelie! Check it out!**

**Vicky xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

_Amelie's POV:_

"Amelie, Amelie?" Oliver's frantic voice comes at me. I feel myself sitting upright but without putting any effort in; Oliver is supporting me with his left arm, his right hand on my face.

"What happened?" I whisper, unable to remember why I am on the floor.

"I don't know... I heard you fall about five minutes ago, so I came down and found you like this," he says before hesitating. "There... There was this portrait in your hand," he confesses, lifting over the thing that makes me instantly realise why I collapsed.

"Keep that away from me," I hiss, baring my fangs as I close my eyes from the horrific painting. The painting of myself with my father and mother; the last thing I have of her. I was seven years old, in this portrait, and mere months after this my mother was killed.

"Amelie, what is wrong?" Oliver presses, the arm wrapped around me more of a comfort now than ever before. Although it is no longer necessary, I _want _it to remain wrapped around me. If possible, I would never let it leave me.

Could _this _be what I feel? Could the emotion which I pushed so far below the surface of my skin that I forgot of it's existence be what I feel for Oliver? Could it be the thing called love, something I haven't actively felt since before I was turned to a vampire?

"Amelie," Oliver repeats my name, drawing me back from the land of the curious to make me focus on him. With this new revelation, I realise that, under the age, he is rather good looking. The hair that has greyed does seem rather well cared for and he has a rather muscular chest, the outline of which can be seen through his clothing. He doesn't have the most ugly of faces either, something which I am grateful for. After all, looks aren't everything but it is easier to be in love with someone who has some aesthetically pleasing points!

But does he love me? There is only one way to tell... To reveal my entire life story, something only Myrnin knows and has probably forgotten by now, since it isn't relevant to science or alchemy or whatever else he is currently obsessing over.

"I am going to tell you my life story," I say, my voice constricted by the tightness of my throat. "Only Myrnin knows this story as it broke me apart to experience it, and to repeat it is not something I do lightly."

He nods in understanding and I feel his arm around me tighten. We are the same temperature so we don't exchange heat, but he feels comforting to me.

"This portrait is the last memory I have of my mother: Marion," I whisper, holding up the slightly dusty painting to show Oliver. It depicts myself, a happy and glowing seven year old, my equally glowing mother standing to my left and a brooding man to my right. That man is my father, the man who destroyed _every _iota of happiness in my life not once, but twice. "Merely months after this was taken, I heard a ferocious argument between herself and my father... He accused her of cheating on him, when all she wanted was for us to be a family. I heard him stabbing her, I heard her piercing screams and cries for help... But nobody came," a tear comes to my eye as I remember the death of my mother for something so pointless and untrue. He just snapped; I think it was the first time, but I am not entirely sure... I heard rumours that my mother bore a child after me, whilst I was still an infant, but that it suddenly died... Whether this is true or not, I do not know but I wouldn't put it past him to kill his own child.

"Oh, Amelie," Oliver whispers, his voice betraying his shock.

I shake my head and laugh slightly manically; he thinks that this is the end! "Oliver, that is not the end - I am simply seven years old here!" I remind him. "You know what my father is like, from when I destroyed him. Once he murdered my mother, although I could never prove it, his mood worsened with me. For long periods of time he would entirely ignore me before berating and punishing me for doing something which I had not. He began to take away from me everything I loved; my horse Marie was killed, my toys removed from my room... The only thing he allowed me to continue with was my lessons. "My daughter must be fully educated, as otherwise why would anybody marry her?" he said this to me everytime we met from the day I turned 12, the day I turned down a marriage proposal from a 67 year old," I wipe away my tears as I remember his callings of my hideous appearance, his callings that I was worth nothing to anyone and I would be named a lonely spinster forever. I know now that this was not the case, that men's heads turned towards me every time I walked past, but I was hurt at the time.

"However anyone could call you anything but beautiful, I do not understand," Oliver mutters to me, sealing my belief that he does love me. I am not imagining this, the fact that he is clenching me close to his immobile heart, am I? Or am I simply being naive and believing that something is possible when it entirely isn't?

"Things settled off for a few years, until nearly a year before he turned me," I continue on my story, conscious of every movement Oliver makes. He is on my every thought: I love him. How strange, to admit that I love someone after so long... But it is the truth. Evidently my body has delibered over this without informing my conscious side and has come to the overall conclusion that I _do _have feelings for him. But this is the bit of my story coming up that is the worst part; this is the bit I blocked out of my memory for scores of years, only remembering that I hate my father because of it. "When I was twenty years old and courting a young Lord of Brittagne, he invited him over to dine with me. I presume that when he wanted to see my suitor, he compelled him... To do what he did," I cut off suddenly, the memory of that night now vivid in my mind.

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," Oliver's gentle voice consoles me, his right hand moving from its forgotten position on the side of my face to wipe away a tear which I didn't even know existed. The other arm has tightened around me so much that if I were human, every body would have been crushed to smithereens by now!

"You need to know the entire story," I snap at him, instantly regretting it. I cannot snap at someone I love, not when they are quite as dear to me as him. "I shall not give details, but after plying me with drink he... Took advantage. Anyway, months later I discovered I was with child and my father arranged for me to come to England. I stayed in a lovely house with a damily we were friendly with, although my father was instigating his army against this country. I stayed the duration of my pregnancy before... Before my father turned up, just after the birth of my daughter..." I break off for a moment, barely able to carry on. "H-he... He took my Ariana from me and turned me into a vampire. I never found her, no matter how hard I looked, and... And he made me _truly _detest him forever," I break off into huge sobs, turning around into Oliver's chest. This feels so _right_, as if I should be here with him.

After less than a second's hesitation, Oliver's arms enclose around me, pulling me closer to his chest. His face presses into my hair and I feel thankful that, at this moment, I have someone with me... Someone to help me through this pain.

"Ssshhh, Amelie, everything will be alright," Oliver consoles me. With the way that he is holding me, I believe him... I may have lost Ariana, but perhaps Oliver could help the future stop appearing as bleak as it does now.

Can I fully let down my guard to let him fully into my heart, a space left desolate and empty with the death of my mother and the loss of my baby?

I lift my head up towards Oliver's and press my full lips softly to his own surprisingly soft ones. Instantly, sparks begin to fly.

_Yes I can..._

**So, Oliver/Amelie fans, be happy with this chappy!**

**If you want the details Amelie was talking about, I wrote it in a oneshot called 'The Last Year'!**

**Please review!**

**Vicky xx**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

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_Oliver's POV:_

Am I dreaming?

Is Amelie _really_ kissing me? Is Amelie, the person who has relayed her horrific life story to me, truly kissing _me_, without me even thinking she had realised her feelings? I haven't done anything but be myself these past weeks, the only thing doing is fighting to keep the monster in my (the one that wants Amelie's power) under control, to try and persuade her… but perhaps this is what has made her realise. Perhaps this is the reason… I haven't been trying to make her fall in love with me; she has done it of her own accord.

"Amelie?" I whisper as she releases me from the most perfect moment of my life.

"Oliver, I… I don't know what came over me," she says, standing up faster than I thought possible. "I am sorry…" she says, causing a wave of pain to crash over me. She thinks that I don't want this; she thinks that that kiss wasn't what I have been hoping for, for all these months… years.

She makes to run out of the room, but I stand and grab her hand so quickly she stops still. She could wrench it out without a problem, but she doesn't. Instead, she leaves it in mine, my fingers entwining with hers without another word from her. She smiles at me and I smile back, trying to decipher the meaning in it.

"Amelie," I begin, wondering if I can truly say these words out loud. "I have something to tell you... I love you. I have done for so long and, oh my, it feels so good to be able to say it!"

She smiles at me and in that instant, our eyes meet. My entire attention is absorbed by my own mediocre eyes meeting with her captivating grey ones. She holds my attention, making me unable to look away but I don't want to. I want to stay locked into her forever, never leaving this position, her hand in mine, the other snaking its way around my neck to pull our heads closer together.

"I realise now that I love you, also, Oliver," she says, her voice tremoring slightly. To prevent anymore conversation, I move forwards slightly and press my lips to hers again, allowing the catalyst of emotion to ensue.

My tongue presses against her lips, oh the beautifully crafted things they are, and she lets me into her mouth, kissing her all the more. She relaxes against me and I smile as she becomes… not submissive, but not entirely dominant either. At last we are equals, partners in a relationship together. She isn't trying to overrule me or anything… all she wants is a kiss, something which I am _more_ than happy to give.

I release her hand and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her hips into mine. I feel the collision underneath the excess of material of which makes up her skirt, the thing that I want to rip off. But I restrain myself, simply concentrating on the beautiful woman in my arms, the woman who is wrapping her arms around my neck and twisting her fingers into my hair in a most alluring manner.

As I _very slowly_ begin to move backwards towards the door, she stops me and releases me from the kiss. She pulls back infinitesimally and laughs very softly, her eyes diamonds glittering. She looks so happy, so vital, and the thing is she doesn't even look perfect. Her hair is coming down out of its bun and her dress isn't straightened out within an inch of its life – no, she is _normal_ and she is happy.

"I am not going to sleep with you, Oliver," she says, humour alight in her tone. "I may love you, but you do not get granted such gifts as that so readily," she continues, making me smile. She may not wish to come to bed with me, yet, but she has just said again that she loves me. I know I'm not dreaming… she loves me.

"I thought…" I begin, not entirely sure _what_ to say because I wasn't really thinking.

"You thought wrong," she says with another laugh. Then her lips press very softly to mine, a gentle and sweet kiss that I shall treasure for the rest of my life. She releases herself from my grasp most easily before walking out of the room, loitering at the door.

She turns back to face me and I see a young and vital woman staring at me with a look of adoration. Her perfect skin is highlighted by the slender appearance of her face, which is heightened by the smile present on it.

"Goodnight Oliver," she says before walking out of the room and up the stairs at a most human pace.

"Goodnight, Amelie," I murmur, knowing that she will still be able to hear me. I stand still in the living room, reeling from the events of the past hour or so. Amelie's life… it has been so _awful_ and I doubt that I would be as strong as she is now; after all she has lived through. I don't know how she does it, remembering everything that has happened… including the loss of her daughter. The memory I have of Bishop was already low, the way that he tried to kill Amelie before she killed him, but this shows him in new colours, the way that he is closer to being the devil's henchman than I originally thought.

And she loves me. She truly does… I didn't have to trick her into it, or twist her… she came to the opinion of her own accord, without much prompting from me. She loves me… I don't know what to say, really besides that this is the happiest day of my life.

_It's also the day that you learnt of her weaknesses. It's also the day that will help you bring her down for good._

No, I am not going to do that. Hell, I have just got the woman of my dreams, why would I destroy that by going for her power? She loves me and I love her and perhaps we can be eternal lovers; perhaps we can be happy forever. If it is a choice between Amelie and power, I choose Amelie.

She is in her bed and sleeping now, hopefully dreaming of me. So I follow suit, heading to my bed and falling into a deep sleep, one that nobody could break but Amelie…

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_Third person perspective – yep, it's back!_

Someone creeps into the house, grinning at just how easy it is. He expected Amelie to have much more stringent guards on her home… even if it was her staying up. Or her lover, Oliver… the intruder still cannot believe that she would go for someone so _horrible_ and _old_.

But he creeps up the stairs, knowing what he is looking for. He slips into Oliver's bedroom and pulls down the book containing the man's journal… the object of the intruder's desires.

The intruder lets out a small laugh before burying it under his mouth as he darts from the house, clutching the thing that can destroy Oliver… forever.

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**What did you think? Little Amelie/Oliver moment for you there.**

**And the story isn't **_**quite**_** over… there's one major twist (well not major, but yano) before it ends, but you get a oneshot after it has finished, so stay tuned!**

**Please review!**

**Vicky xx**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

**Unlucky number for some… but could it be unlucky in the context of this story?**

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_Oliver's POV – three weeks later…_

It is so hard. I cannot bear to feel this struggle anymore. I cannot fight this inner monster inside of me any longer – I must succumb to it and let it try and beat Amelie. I do not want to but this successive fighting of it within me for years, but only just surfacing now I have gotten what I want, is wearing me out. I do not believe that it is viable for me to fight _myself_ (it isn't even some other person… it is me) and love Amelie at the same time. Something has got to give.

Unfortunately, it seems to be that Amelie is the one to suffer.

For three weeks I have been happy with her during the 'day' (for us) and been able to enjoy myself. But at night, it has been a different story. I have misplaced my 'journal', where I write the struggles down that I face with this inner monster and this means that I cannot deal with them. This allows them to build inside of me and I fear that the evil, power hungry, side of me will surface soon.

This has been the happiest time of my life and I don't want it to end. But… but it has to.

I open my eyes as I contemplate what is happening, just as I feel a shift in my body. I, the more reasonable part of me and the part that is in love with Amelie, has been shifted into the submissive position without me even realising. The power hungry part is my dominant emotional state. I am going to try and kill Amelie.

Well this is _just great_.

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_Amelie's POV:_

I never thought that Oliver would be the one for me… it's not particularly normal, to fall for someone so different to you. Also, the way that he always wanted my power (and made no attempt to hide it) shouldn't have drawn me to him; evidently, it did. I never wanted love; I always felt it would be too dangerous and painful after I lost my mother and my daughter… but Oliver has proven me wrong. He has shown me that I don't need to feel as bitter as I once did about the two people I loved leaving me… I love him. he is the one I need to remain in my life, to continue to show me that being cold and heartless, on the outside, isn't the way that I need to be. I can smile and relax and spend time with the person that I love without having to be perfect continually. It is possible that Oliver is making me normal once again, as I was when I was a human; fiery and passionate and entirely dominant without being cold or detached… I loved everything… and perhaps I can return to this way of thinking.

"_Jesu Christo_," Myrnin's shocked voice comes out of his room as he sees me. I smile at him, making his jaw drop open, as he processes my appearance. I am wearing my usual dress style – long and velvet, in an emerald colour I know compliments my hair and eye colourings – but my hair is long and flowing over my shoulders, my face folded into a smile.

"Whatever has shocked you so deeply that it has forced you to take the son of our Lord's name in vain?" I ask him, slightly snappily because he always is so anti-religious, even though he knows I am deeply so. It isn't because of this reason I shall not sleep with Oliver (we are, in the eyes of the law, married after all) but because I have been courting him for such a short time, it hardly seems appropriate… for me, at least.

"You," Myrnin replies shortly, looking shocked still but hiding it behind a look of disapproval. "I take it you figured it out then," he says as he shuts the door behind me.

I presume that he is talking about Oliver's feelings and I nod, noting how he has made this place look _remarkably_ better than it looked when I selected it for him, with the odour of grease entirely eradicated and the amount of other _inhabitants_ greatly depleted.

"Yes, I did, no thanks to you," I say sharply. If he knew, he should have told me what I felt and why it was… he should have done; otherwise I would have been saved so much confusion! I repeat this to him and he pulls a face before settling in a chair opposite me.

"Don't trust him," Myrnin says in a low tone, looking entirely serious. What? Why shouldn't I trust the man I love?

"What?" I gasp, shock evident on my face. "Myrnin, I know you don't like Oliver but please don't ruin... The first time I have been happy in a long time," I beg but he shakes his head. He produces a book, crammed full of pages of perfect italic writing, and I pull closer to see it.

"I stole his diary, that he keeps hidden in his room, and found some pretty disturbing stuff in it," he says - Oliver keeps a _diary_? I never realised he was so in touch with his emotions to write that! But Myrnin begins flashing excerpts at me, trying to get me to break into the man I love's privacy to read something that shouldn't make me trust him.

"I don't want to read it," I say sharply, shutting my eyes so I can't.

"_I need her power... Amelie is powerful but I need to be more so_," Myrnin recites in a monotonous tone, startling me. He has just written this; Oliver will not have written this. He loves me; he doesn't want to destroy me... I know him; he cannot lie like that and pretend he doesn't love me. It isn't true.

I stand up, eyes a blazing silver in anger, and backhand the chair across the room, allowing it to crash into the wall with a bang.

"Do not speak of him in that way," I hiss in his direction, fangs extended. "Myrnin, if you cannot accept the fact that I love him… then I do not wish to spend time with you anymore," I say, staring into his eyes coolly.

"Fine, Amelie," he says, staring right back into my eyes with his most powerful gaze. There is no joking, only deathly seriousness. "When he tries to destroy you, don't come running back to me and asking why you didn't listen… that is if you survive," he finishes coolly before turning away.

My hands clenched in anger, I storm out of the flat and head back to the house I share with my true love… but Myrnin is wrong, isn't he?

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**What did you think?**

**Please review!**

**Vicky xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

**Nearing the end of this story, guys, unfortunately... Don't forget that I promised you a oneshot for AFTER the events of this story as well though, so there's still a liddle more to go!**

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_Oliver's POV:_

Just how am I going to defeat Amelie? How am I going to be able to use the information I have learned about her to my advantage, so that she shall succumb to me without a fight? The part of me that loves her fights within me enough to ensure that, unless there is no other way, I shall not kill her... I, the 'baddy' the goody side would say, want her to know that I am taking her power from her as I do so; I want her to know that she loved the wrong man, that he would end up destroying her.

I feel my power already increasing by the day; a hot and fiery power in comparison to her cold and icy one. The one that spreads through the room instantly as soon as she begins to feel any questioning of her strength; the one that means any opposition that isn't nearly equal to her is zapped of all energy and power.

"Oliver?" Amelie's voice startles me, making me jump. I turn around to see her wearing the simplest dress she has. It is plain white and I believe it began life as a nightgown... Now it simply allures me.

Whilst _I _may not love Amelie, the sight of a beautiful woman's body certainly draws me in. I have to admit, the feelings from the part of me that loves her almost make me love her. I _certainly_ appreciate the curvature of her body, the beautiful features of her face... The perfect neck that I can bite into to drain her power.

"Amelie," I say her name in a tone that I infuse as much fake emotional love-y smush as possible. "How are you?" I move across to her and place my hands on her hips before pressing my lips softly to hers. I will admit, the kiss is superb - she almost makes me feel in love with her. Unfortunately, that is the side of me that is weak and not deserved of power. I got control of this vessel because we deserve power - kissing her makes me realise I can simply pretend to kiss her neck before stealing her power.

"I suppose you could say that I am rather happy with the proximity between us," she replies, rather coyly. She presses her head against my chest and I pull her closer to me for a moment.

Why not do this now? Why not take my power now, rather than wait and allow the possibility of my 'good' side winning out?

I pull her head from my chest and she looks at me in surprise. However, I begin kissing her neck alluringly and she falls against me once again, entirely succumbed to me. This is too easy.

I press little kisses along her neck, right up to the point where I know I have to bite in order to drain her power.

"Oliver, please stop, you're making me want to..." she says before trailing off. I half smile at the way that my methods of stealing her livelihood are making her want to sleep with me.

My fangs extend and press dimples against her neck before pushing themselves in. I feel the blood filling slightly in my mouth, thick and dark and… and _powerful_.

"Oliver, what are you doing?" she asks, gasping in pain. I feel my power circulate the room, fiery hot and consuming everything else, and smile as I begin to suck on her blood.

Oho, this is going to be brilliant!

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**Please don't kill me for the length of the chapter! I'll be updating almost instantly, if you review, tho... So please review! Also, please read my NEW Amelie/Oliver story, called A mistake equalling a child? It starts with them, and maybe it'll even end that way! Please read!**

**Vicky xx**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

**So, yeah, I decided to update even with the lack of reviews just to finish the story... enjoy!**

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_Amelie's POV:_

I should have believed Myrnin straight away. I should have believed that he found Oliver's true diary and that Oliver was trying to take my power. However, I didn't believe him: I thought that Oliver had entirely changed, that all he had was love for me.

He's biting me, but he doesn't know what I did. He doesn't know that I acted just incase Myrnin told me the truth, that I placed silver all around my neck where he would bite me, on the off chance that Myrnin was right. I also ingested silver (rather painfully, but for this reason - that it would hurt him more) and set up a leverage of holy water to cascade over him if he tried anything, incase he was evil.

I wish he wasn't. I wish that he hadn't... Oh my, he has just used me! He tricked me into loving him so that I would give him the opportunity to take my power from me. I would never allow it and he doesn't have the actual opportunity to take my power - he isn't as strong as me...

"Bloody hell!" Oliver spits as he retracts himself from my neck. He spits my blood all over the floor as I allow my power to spin across the room, an icy sensation spreading around everywhere.

"Don't you _dare _try and steal my power," I hiss, spinning around and pushing him to the floor quickly. I push him into the ground, stained with the blood dosed with silver, before activating the bucket of holy water to pour all over my head.

"Argh!" he screams, howls of pain echoing around the room. I smile vindictively before kneeling down on his back, wrenching his head up by his hair. I sneer at him and allow my fangs to sink as I feel the wound in my neck healing instantly. All traces of the silver on my skin has gone (and in my blood) and only he is suffering.

In this position, I cannot help but feel saddened. I love this man and he has torn my heart out. He has stood all over it, destroyed my hopes and feelings, and left me feeling entirely ice cold.

"You have destroyed my heart, Oliver, I hope you are happy," I hiss into his ear, watching as he strains his head to get away from me.

"There is a part of me that pains that you have said that, but only a small part, that isn't in control anymore," he snarls in response. "That was the weak part, the part that didn't deserve to be in control."

So he loves me... Deep down. The part of him that does is locked away now, beneath the monster.

That may be true, but I cannot chance it. I cannot allow him to remain close to me, even though I love him. I must detach all emotion, become an emotionally controlled shell, to retain my power and remove the longing for Oliver, that I know will come.

I release him, allowing no emotion to be present on my face. He turns to face me as I straighten my skirts, wondering why I have acted the way I have.

"Go, and never come back," I order in a flat, emotionless voice. My eyes are the only part of me that I cannot control, and they are shining with unshed tears. "I shall not kill you, as it would only hurt me more, but if I ever see you again, I swear I shall not show the same leniency, love or not. Do you understand?"

His face twists up into an approximation of a smirk, but I don't see it. All I see is his face, the way that it was when it was filled with adoration for me, betraying his love. This memory will stay with me forever, whilst the love of my life is in the wilderness, for what he tried to do. He tried to kill me, to drain my power so that he could control me. He succumbed to his inner demon to allow this to happen... I cannot forgive that.

"Why yes, humble Amelie, I understand," he replies.

"Then go," I say sharply, holding back any sign of tears. "Go now, with what you can carry of your own possessions, and remember what I said... Goodbye Oliver," I continue, my voice nearly breaking until I manage to level it out.

"Goodbye Amelie... There is a part of me that wishes it didn't end this way," he says, appearing slightly sorrowful. Who knows if that is an act? I cannot believe anything he says again...

"You mean there is a large proportion of you that wishes it had ended with my death and your surge in power, and a minority that actually wanted to be with me?" I edit what he said, laughing wryly. "Jesus Christ, please go before you make me want to kill you or kiss you. Please, otherwise I shall force you out," i confess my feelings for him stupidly, making his head shoot up.

He nods grimly and moves quickly for the stairs, to gather his belongings. I shake slightly as I stand, all energy sucked out of me. He has really tried to kill me. This is really going to be the last time I _ever _see him... I cannot believe he wanted to kill me! I loved him and he wanted to destroy me.

Within three minutes, he has gathered some of his pitiful belongings and loiters in the doorway of the lounge. I instantly move to protect myself and he grins slightly before settling back into being serious. He obviously realises that his attempt to kill me and take my power died _long_ ago – it never really had a life.

"Goodbye," he says before disappearing out of the door, into the night. I have no idea where he goes, where he is heading, but all I know is that I collapse as soon as he has gone. I fall to the floor and sob my heart out, letting all the emotion out that I blocked away when Oliver attacked me.

I don't know how long I lie here, sobbing, until suddenly Myrnin is here. he pulls me into his arms and rocks me softly, until I regain control: I cannot _ever_ relinquish control over my emotions again in public.

"Myrnin, what… what are you doing here?" I ask, perplexed.

"Oliver came to see me before he left," he admits, an angry look visible on his face. "If it wasn't for the fact that I knew you obviously didn't want him dead, hence why he was still standing, I would have killed him for what he did," he growls, fangs extending.

I sit upright and push myself up heavily to sit in the chair.

"I suppose you wish to say, I told you so," I say with a wry smile, knowing that this is typical Myrnin and that is why he is here – as well as to comfort me.

"I daresay in different circumstances I would, but I have no plan to here," he surprises me by saying… then again, everyone is surprising me. Everyone is surprising me – I don't know what to expect anymore.

I have to admit, the entire 'keeping back how I feel to stop the pain' is the thing I wish to do. Oliver has destroyed my heart and I doubt I will ever be the same again. If I hide my emotions from everyone in the world, even myself, it helps me stop hurting – I have found this already. This is how I shall have to be… I cannot allow myself to feel this pain again.

"Myrnin, we shall always remain friends, shan't we?" I confirm, looking at the friend, the person, I hold most dear in the world.

"Forever, my Amelie, forever," he says with a small wink, causing me to laugh a little. "Now, come, we must plan where we are going to move to next – my wife once again!" he jokes, gliding tactfully (as possible) over the subject.

"Yes, we shall," I respond as naturally as possible. I shall _have_ to be ok – after all, I am Amelie. I can do anything, including get over heartbreak.

So I stand up and move to the room I call my office to get the map to decide where we are to head to next. Oliver is no longer here… there is only myself and Myrnin. My heart has to get over this – I need it to.

Otherwise, how will I live?

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_Several years later…_

Years have passed and yet I still feel the same irreparable damage to my heart. Oliver has destroyed me; I am simply a shell, unable to display emotion to the world. I cannot do anything about it, only mourn the man that I truly loved and wish with all my heart that he hadn't acted the way he did.

It has become easier to hide behind my lack of willingness to show emotion, rather than actually actively do anything to show how I feel. I fear that this has changed me forever, made me this cold and horrible person for nothing. He acted wrong, not me. He tried to kill me, to take my power, not the other way around. I wish that he hadn't done that, so now, into the next century, we could still be together…

However, I cannot change that fact. I cannot do anything besides get on with my life without him, to do more than merely exist which I do at present.

I need to.

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**So, what did you think?**

**THIS WAS THE FINAL CHAPTER! Whoop! Yep, there WILL be a oneshot up shortly, about when Oliver returns to Morganville and their confrontation – I hope that you'll enjoy it!**

**Thanks to everyone who has read this story and please review!**

**Vicky xx**


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